


Operation: STARFALL - Remastered

by SynapticFirefly



Category: Codename: Kids Next Door
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, F/M, Growing Up, Science Fiction, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-05-15 18:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SynapticFirefly/pseuds/SynapticFirefly
Summary: Chad Dickson is the last person to protect the newly decommissioned Rachel McKenzie. And as the Kids Next Door is racked in civil war, he struggles to find redemption in the place he least expected. But a greater threat lies beyond the stars and when they fall, so will Earth. 274/362





	1. Year [Redacted]

**Author's Note:**

> If this is your first time reading this story, please ignore this note. For the others, you might find that almost everything has changed. Starfall (as of June 2019) has now officially been remastered with extra scenes, grammar clean up, and even complete changes to dialogue. The old story is still up on FF.net, but it will sadly be discontinued.
> 
> All future chapters will be published to this remastered version! Please stay tuned!

**Year [REDACTED]**

A young woman sat on a ledge overlooking the New York City skyline. The city’s warm, evening breeze swept through her when her watch beeped. As she pulled up her sleeve and swiped her finger across the screen, an image of two well-dressed news anchors behind a large desk appeared for the special nightly report. Channel 10 News’ livestream was now live.

_ “Good evening everyone, I’m Rhonda Swimmer.” _

_ “And I’m Jim Corolla.” _

_ “If you’re planning on relaxing inside your home tonight, you may want to change your plans,” _   Rhonda announced.  _ “A strange meteor shower will be making its way across the East Coast that has NASA baffled. More on this story is our investigative reporter David Latterman live on the scene. David?” _

The woman watching the feed inwardly smiled as the camera panned away. David was one of theirs. 

A disheveled reporter paused while a large crowd awed from behind in a wooded area.  _ “Thanks, Rhonda!”  _ he said as loud as he could through the noise.  _ “I’m in here in Central Park and as you see, it’s extremely busy with locals and tourists. Now, NASA’s official word on what they describe as the biggest meteor shower since 1956 is kind of murky at the moment. What we do know is that this phenomenon wasn’t predicted by any of the researchers. There is also no word on where the meteors came from.” _

Rhonda suddenly appeared in a split screen. _ “This being the biggest meteor shower in over half a century, is there any fear of meteors breaching the atmosphere?” _

David’s response lagged a second late.  _ “Absolutely not. We were told that the meteors are too small to cause any disaster and that most if not all will burn harmlessly in the atmosphere.” _

Rachel hummed pensively at the watch when the camera panned back to Jim. 

_ “If you are looking to use any electronic devices tonight, you might want to take extra precautions,” he continued. “NASA has warned that with the sheer magnitude of meteors lighting up the skies tonight, satellites and cell towers may be disrupted-”  _

The picture flickered violently just before the reporter could finish. She smacked her forearm a couple of times until the picture was clear again.

_ “-and possibly temporarily down until after the event. Internet providers have already taken extra steps to move their satellites but for those who plan on streaming or browsing the web, there is a chance you might find your connection slowing down or stopping altogether.” _

_ “This meteor shower is trending from Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter,”   _ Rhonda added. _ “We have taken your questions and concerns from Channel 10’s Twitter account and rest assured that landlines, TVs, and power-based appliances will not be affected by tonight’s meteor shower.” _

_ “They make it sound like it’s the apocalypse,” _  Jim joked.

Rhonda politely chuckled for the camera.  _ “Well let’s hope not! Let’s check the weather-” _

Rachel swiveled her finger around the screen, muting Rhonda. A hologram of hash-tagged twitter messages about the meteor shower moved the news stream to the side. A lot of them were jokes about politics or stereotypes; those who knew what really was going on were silent, as expected. 

After a few flicks of idle browsing, Rachel closed the applications with a wave and exhaled. She could hear people chatter loudly below. 

From one of the balconies, a child no older than nine pointed at the visible moon above them and whispered in ways to her friend that seemed out of context. Phrases like  _ moonbase _ and  _ missions _ colored the air around them.

Any other adult wouldn't have picked up their chatter, because they were too busy being  _ adults  _ and treating it as nonsense. But she did. She looked down from her perch to find the two children were of more interest than the skies, but only for a moment. A new shift in the balance of this world was coming soon. Greater than anyone could imagine.

"Quick! Make a wish!" A mother whispered to her child from another balcony and excitedly pointed up at the sky.

The first star fell from the heavens like a twinkle of pure starlight. Even the children paused their conversation to gaze at the spectacle in awe. Then another star followed. And another. The violet sky was now home to dozens of dying stars streaking the atmosphere, picking up from where the sun left off from the horizon.

Her heart beat so hard in her chest that her breathing turned erratic. With a strangled whimper, she clutched at her jacket as her body burned along with each star’s last descent. 

A pair of arms pulled her from behind and startled her, distracting her from the burning sensation for a moment.

“You looked like you were going to jump off,” A voice warned, his breath against her neck. “Don’t flake out on me now, McKenzie.” 

Rachel exhaled in a mixture of pain and laughter as the mysterious stranger pulled her back to safety. She looked up at the man - brilliant, handsome, and so weighed down by the very stars itself that she wanted to cry for him. 

“It really hurts,” she whispered, but it had nothing to do with his tight hold. 

Chad’s cool stare softened. “Yeah.” 

He squeezed her middle as more stars fell. Soon the awe turned to confused murmurs and then to alarm as the sky looked less like a meteor shower and more like hellfire igniting the night. People were starting to panic. Rachel looked up at the sky, now a menacing haze of red accompanied with loud booms. The mother down below started to hurry children back into the building and people down below on the street started to scream and run for cover.

And then, among the litter of falling stars - a colossal object sank from what little clouds that were left, dominating the skyline. It looked like a planet from this angle, menacing and alien. Everything descended into chaos.

His hold on her was relentless now. She instinctively tried to squirm from him and run to safety, but he refused. The entire deck suddenly felt unnaturally cold against the fiery horizon. Ice bloomed around their feet. 

Chad locked unnatural blue-violet eyes with hers. “Stay close to me.” 

Her eyes widened before she gave him a slow nod. The moon above his head seemed to be unnaturally bright now. And like the moon, he was distant, ever cold, shining above, a beacon against the night. Her last thought was  _ yes _ . Of course it was. Because he was from the moon.

And so was she. 

Then the large object suddenly came down upon their heads.

**|_Loading_final_mission_|**

**Operation: STARFALL**

**Stars**

**Targeting**

**All**

**Recommissioned**

**Friends**

**And**

**Lovers**

**Lost**


	2. Year 0 - Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chad has to make a life-changing decision.

“I’ve got a favor to ask, Numbuh 274.”

A nasty curl of lips answered Nigel Uno. After a short beat, Chad turned away for the stars and planets stretching angrily in hyperspace through his view-port. He would have preferred the opposite end of the blasted alien transport but it was already too small and cramped for him. It was never meant to hold teenagers, but somehow they managed. 

Squished between seats, it was hard for Chad to be in any kind of good mood. He had been thrown aside for a younger, shinier model of an operative. Infinity had asked him to follow, but that didn’t mean he had to play stewardess. Nigel didn’t deserve the title of  _ Galactic Operative _ . He hadn’t sacrificed enough to _ earn _ it.

“Here we go again,” Nigel drawled. “You don’t need to act like my arch nemesis anymore. We’re on the same team now.”

“We’ve always been on the same team, you idiot!” Chad snapped dangerously at him. “That doesn’t mean we’re friends! We will never  _ ever _ be friends, so get it through your thick skull, Uno!” 

Numbuh Infinity let out a heavy snore from the back that broke the months-long tension in half. 

Nigel folded his arms and looked away. “I didn’t ask for this you know,” he mumbled. For a second, Chad could have sworn the kid sounded down. 

Before guilt could eat its way for his former protege, Chad tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “Fine. Whatever. What do you want?” 

But Nigel said nothing. They were like two quarreling brothers fighting over the game controller. It was maddening.

Nigel finally caved, his edgy voice now raspy from grief. “Numbuh Infinity said you're not staying long on Starbase Centauri. That you might go back home.”

“For reconnaissance,” Chad answered bitterly. “I haven’t decided yet.” 

He was still on the fence about his future. On the one hand, the Galactic KND still had use of him. Despite being a teenager, Chad was still a formidable operative and has proved his loyalty a thousand times over. And yet, Nigel was going to inherit all the bells and whistles, leaving Chad to be little more than a backup.

And truly, did he really want to play mentor for Uno again? Left to the shadows… _again_ , leaving the kid to absorb even more power and glory in the name of Earth?

On the other hand, if Chad returned to Earth… it was back to his overbearing parents, long football practices, and the boredom of adulthood.

Uno had a better reason to stay on Earth. The kid had parents he actually adored and friends who loved him. Chad had burned all of his bridges for this stolen opportunity. He didn’t care for his insane parents, or the social hierarchy of junior high, or his so-called ‘friends’ that meant as much to him as the gum beneath his shoes. They were all obstacles, a means to an end. An end that Nigel didn’t earn. 

The only thing Chad ever cared for was the KND. And even that wasn't enough. He didn’t understand why, but he had no choice but to accept the Council’s decision. No amount of shouting and evidence was going to sway their decision over their new golden boy. 

It was going to be Uno. _It was always going to be Uno._ His fingers twisted deep into the armrests as an ugly bitterness threatened to consume him. He  _ wanted _ it to consume him.

Nigel frowned. "Numbuh 274?" 

“Get to the point already,” Chad snapped.

“I just want you to do something for me, okay? Something I wanted to do but can’t.”

“Is that right?” he sneered. Now Uno wanted a favor like it was owed to him. What’s another order for the two-faced Chad Dickson, right? All bow to the egocentric doormat who deserved to cramp himself in the shadow of the great Nigel Uno. “Go ahead, Uno. I’ll bite. Want me to polish your space boots? Spit-shine that bald head of yours? You’ve taken everything else from me, might as well take my dignity while you’re at it.”

Nigel sighed. “Are you done acting like a… like a…?”

“Say it,” Chad warned when Nigel’s face colored. “Like a  _ teenager _ . Well in case you haven’t noticed,  _ Nigie _ , I’ve got bigger legs than you, and I can use them to kick you straight out of airlock.” 

“This is getting nowhere,” Nigel shot irritably. “It’s just a girl. You can handle that can you? Just keep an eye on her. That's it!”

“Her?” A thousand scenarios played up in Chad’s mind. Was it Abby? She didn’t need to be kept an eye on. Cree’s sister has led Sector V before. She could do it again. “Numbuh 5 doesn’t need-”

Nigel shook his head way too quickly. “It’s not the guys I’m worried about.”

The way Nigel blushed made Chad’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Then his lips curled with disgust. Utter weakness. “Zero damn you. Don’t tell me you want me to take your girlfriend to the dance or something. I want nothing to do with what’s-her-face.” Lizzie something. He remembered sabotaging Sector V’s treehouse against her. That was the extent of it. 

Nigel fervently shook his head again. “No, not… not Lizzie.” He faltered and then glared at the seat in front of him. It was very telling, and he had to admit it piqued Chad’s interest.

“Girl trouble, Uno? And I thought  _ I  _ was the teenager around here.” Sure he had his own pick of the litter with the cheerleaders back at Hendry, but none of them ever mattered to him. Love had no place in a mission, but a girlfriend did. You could go straight up the promotion track back with the Teen Ninjas from that alone. And the hotter she was, the better. 

Or in Chad’s case -  _ dumber _ , the better. They were easier to control. Junior varsity cheerleaders were cheap, easy promotion tokens. He couldn’t even be bothered to remember names. 

“Girl, yes,” Nigel said with a weak grin. “Trouble? Hardly. Rachel’s a good girl. A fantastic leader. I-”

Chad’s sullen expression morphed into disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“It’s not what you… or okay.” Nigel pinched the bridge, his blush reaching alarming levels. “Forget I said anything.”

As if Chad was going to let this slide. Feeling a sting of protectiveness for his former second-in-command, Chad leaned forward. “Yeah, no. You’re not slipping out of this one, Uno. Dragging 362 into this you- when did you? How-” Now he was the one tripping up. 

Chad finally strung all of his questions into one biting accusation. “Are you guys together?” 

He couldn't hold back the way his words dripped with venom or the way Nigel flinched from it. Rachel was off-limits. Extremely off-limits. He remembered the way she bounced around the Command Deck with an enthusiasm that made work contagious. The idea that Nigel would pluck her from the highest pedestal he put her on and tempt her with dates and sweet words jettisoned Chad’s blood pressure up so high he was sure the beeping from the on-board computer was warning them about it.

“No!” Nigel blushed even more by the interrogation. “She’s a friend and was there for me, okay?! I just didn’t get to say goodbye!”

“So what?” Chad egged on mercilessly. “I bet you wanted to hook up with her, didn’t you?” Of course he would. He was promoted to galactic operative and now he wanted arguably one of the greatest Supreme Leaders of the Sixth Era. How infuriatingly typical of Nigel Selfish Uno. It made him even more mad. 

For all the rivalry and bad blood between them, Uno just couldn’t leave McKenzie out of this, could he? And if she carried a torch for him too, it was just another loved one disappointed by his departure. 

_ It should have been me _ , Chad furiously thought. The only consolation prize was that everyone else suffered from Galactic Command’s decision, even her. 

“I don’t know what I wanted,” Nigel admitted to the opposite seat. “With Lizzie dumping me, it… I don’t know. It was a stupid idea. I didn’t know what else to think of. Just keep tabs on her. Make sure she’s happy. Don’t let her go to the other side, Chad. I know the Teen Ninjas would do anything to get their hands on a Supreme Leader. Even a decommissioned one. You’re proof of that.” 

Suddenly weary, Chad settled back in his seat neither agreeing or disagreeing with his statement. “I could just say no, stay on base, and put this whole stupidity behind us.”

“You could, but you wouldn’t, would you?” Nigel challenged with a lightness that seemed to combat even the darkness of space.   

Chad didn’t think it was worth a response.


	3. Year 1 - Decommission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years later, Chad finally upholds a promise he made.

**Two Years Later**

_“Strike 109, do you read me? Strike 109!”_

The radio crackled for a response, but its pilot wasn’t inclined to answer. A dark girl no older than sixteen draped long legs over the pilot controls and compared the new color of her nails against her samurai armor. Her co-pilot sighed and reached over to flip the switch.

“This is Strike 109. What’s your damage?”

“We’ve got a distress signal on the private channels. Two AWOL operatives needing extraction, dudes,” The radio answered with a teenage drawl. “Defenses will be down in ETA three minutes at Moonbase dock twelve. Give ‘em a hand will ya?”

Cree smiled and checked her nails one more time before slipping on her gloves. “Finally some action.”

“Roger that,” the curt co-pilot responded. Just as he flipped the switch, Strike 110 asked who Roger was.

“You know,” Cree drawled, playing with her curls. “I hope this next batch has potential. They just get more stupid every year.” No response. She turned her head as her co-pilot wordlessly climbed into the back of the fighter. He had a set of broadening shoulders and an athletic build that made the armor nice and snugged when he clipped himself in. Feeling a bit saucy, Cree couldn't help but add, "You know Maurice can bench-press six kids now. It's a new personal record."

That got his attention. From under his helmet, he reverberated a clipped response. "Are you threatened?" After a beat, his tone changed to disgust. "Or attracted?"

"A little of Column A and B," she hissed back, her dark eyes intimidating.

“Just get me to dock twelve in one piece. Practice your parallel parking on your own time.” It didn’t take him long to turn and catch her hawkish stare. "What now?"

Cree sat back in her seat, as smug as a house cat. "Oh, my. You _are_ irritated today. I wonder why?"

"You know, some of us actually take this seriously," he said darkly. "Maybe you're just losing interest in the Teen Ninjas."

"Oh, I don't need to prove myself, unlike some here in the audience." Her voice took on a dangerous turn. "If it wasn't for Maurice, I'd have taken care of you myself for betraying us. Remember that, Dickson."

He fantasized drop-kicking Cree right into the piloting console. She always had that special ability to get her enemies lashed out and played into her hands. Her combat prowess was second to her wicked tongue; her words all tempered by spite and attitude. That was what made her invaluable to the Teen Ninjas, and in turn valuable for Chad. If Cree hadn't caved to Maurice, he really wouldn't have been able to earn a second chance. It two years of combined effort from the TND to reestablish his loyalties because he still was useful to them.

_He was still useful to the KND._

Sometimes he wondered if he chose right coming back like this. He would be somewhere in outer space now fighting adults in unimaginable places, but it also meant dogging at Uno's heels at every turn, always playing second fiddle. At least here, back on Earth, he was the greatest operative by default.

 _By default._ A new bout of rage hit him hard and he used it as energy for his newest missions, lest he actually acted out on drop-kicking Cree.

As they reached the dock, the positioning cross-hair on the console zeroed in on two rogue operatives holding a blockade from the off-duty kitchen staff. The Decommissioning Squad hadn’t arrived yet, but it was also the night shift, and he knew from experience that meant less operatives out tonight.

“May I suggest a three for two day?!” Cree jeered at him as the shuttle doors opened for him. The kitchen operatives gawked stupidly at their arrival. “I hear the Supreme Leader is having a special birthday party! Hit her up with some retirement options courtesy of the Teen Ninjas!”

He didn’t respond. Instead he flipped off the shuttle and landed between the KND and the new teen operatives.

“Good evening, I'm here for a pickup,” he sneered. "You wouldn't have a couple of teenagers on the menu today, would you?" At once, the teenagers quickly made a break for Cree’s shuttle, leaving him with the backup that finally arrived. He reached behind and pulled out a giant black ruler that snapped three times longer at the push of a button. He blocked a weaponized trash can lid with it and swiped at them back in a wide arc before barreling into a swarm of operatives that tried to overcome the shuttle.

Of course they would try and use that strategy. Chad himself was the one who developed it and it's been a standard tactic in the combat manual ever since. A little more angry at them, he revealed a second matching ruler for them to contend with as more operatives started pouring in.

He quickly counted and smiled underneath his helmet. "I see twenty little preteens. That means a lot of you are veterans. Good, maybe this'll finally even the odds."

* * *

 

Global Command had not stopped the tears since this morning. Decommissioning was always a sad, and occasionally episodic affair, but today felt like it marked the end of an era. The old guard. Supreme Leader Numbuh 362 was set for decommissioning today in light of her 13th birthday.

The party itself at home was kind of weird. Her mother personally arranged it and honestly, Rachel couldn't remember the last time they ever did anything together. Some of her close friends on Moonbase came like Fanny, who was still crying, but Patton couldn't come because, well...

On their way to the decommissioning chamber, Rachel passed a portrait of Numbuh 60 on the wall, who saluted the camera with an iron salute and a soldier's frown in all his military splendor. A few months have gone and they were still deliberating on who would be next to take Patton's place as Senior Drill Sergeant for Arctic Base. She must've passed Numbuh 4's picture numerous times, but she still wasn't too confident. Wally indeed had a tactical prowess that would be vital for the next generation, but he was still too hot headed and didn't work well with the other instructors, which got worse now that Sector V was to split up due to the large round of promotions. Hoagie had enthusiastically picked up an open spot on Moonbase's Top Secret 2x4 Labs with Kuki not too far behind working on her new position as Hamster Liaison (they've been having a lot of problems with unionizing hamsters recently).

As for Abigail, well, there was a reason she walked beside Rachel today for little more than sentimental reasons.

Rachel was tired of crying the last week, so she refused to do so today. She would like a little bit of dignity during her final work, even if it involved a lot of hysterical sobbing from Herbie, who kept blubbering as she packed up her office and cleared the stickers off her throne. She was thirteen now; It was time to trade in her Rainbow Monkeys and take an iPod.

Once they arrived to the doors, Fanny waylaid them and started to shake in final preparation.

“As ye… as ye walk to yer decommissionin’, think… think...” Fanny kept sniffling through her speech, which didn’t help things along at all. Every time she stopped to rub her nose, her decommissioning squad let out a howl of anguish for their Supreme Leader. Rachel was silently glad she chose a quiet ceremony away from a huge stadium of sobbing children. The last thing she wanted was to hurt them more by making this a big deal.

Yesterday was especially hard when she addressed her final promotions during the assembly. And when she shouted that the Kids Next Door ruled, the entire stadium erupted in tears. She knew what kind of hole she was leaving behind. It reminded her of how things were when Numbuh 100 left or when Numbuh 274 went AWOL. Supreme Leaders, especially good ones, were extremely difficult to replace.

After Patton went, Fanny had a hard time holding together. It was probably the most emotional response she had ever given to a boy. Rachel didn’t want to think about how hard it was for Fanny now that it was her turn. She was her second-in-command and the last to go of the three of them.

“Think… think…”

Rachel smiled pitifully at Fanny. “You don’t have to finish, Numbuh 86-”

“No!” she snapped back. “I can - I need to-” Rachel nodded in understanding and allowed her to fetch the strength needed to finish. “Think of this as… as not a goodbye. Ye have held yer duty as Supreme Leader and while - while others will take yer place, yer numbuh will be immortalized, and while ye forget yer greatness, the K-Kids Next Door will never forget.”

The Decommissioning Squad snapped to attention around her and saluted. “Never forget!”

“Never forget.”

Rachel looked over her shoulder and smiled at Abby's gloomy expression. “Don't flake on me now, Abby. You're a pillar of strength for me right now.”

Abby lowered her sunglasses. _Numbuh 1's sunglasses,_ Rachel noted with a dull pang. She wished she could've said goodbye.

“Numbuh 5 gonna miss you, Numbuh 362. We all are.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Rachel said cheerfully. “I’ll have a proper sleep schedule again.” It made Abby chuckle, which was enough for her. She took Abby’s hand and shook it. “I’m not sad, not really. Because I know I’m leaving the Kids Next door to the best person I know. I _know_ I am. Zero speed, Supreme Leader.”  

Abby lowered her head to avoid showing Rachel the pain in her eyes. “Good luck, Numbuh 362.”

Rachel's smile was tight. “Try again.”

Abby grit her teeth. Her gaze was so far downwards to the floor, that her hat practically swallowed her expression up. “Good luck, Rachel.”

It suddenly dawned on her what it meant to lose her number like this. A bit shaky, Rachel turned away for the open doors of the Decommissioning Chamber. She wasn’t going to run or make excuses to continue. It was kind of ironic how this was the mature thing to do.

Fanny’s hand reached for her before she took a single step forward.

“Fanny,” Rachel warned kindly. “No more delays.”

“I… I know,” Fanny sniffed. Her bottom lip was quivering uncontrollably now and her eyes shone with tears. “I just wanted ter say… ye were the best leaduh we ever ‘ad. An’ I’mma gonna follow, I swear. I wun’t run!”

Rachel smiled proudly at her and squeezed her hand. “You’ve been a great XO, Fanny. And a good friend. Decommissioning isn’t going to change that.” This was hard, ungodly hard, and she could only put up a strong front for so long. If they didn’t get this over with soon, she’ll never want to leave. When Fanny didn’t let go of her hand, Rachel playfully bumped her fist on her arm. “Get a hold of yourself, 86. Your squad is watching you.”

“Oh! Y-yeah…” She finally let go of her and addressed her squad. “ATTEN-SHUN!” The group pocketed their tissues and held their weapons in parade rest.

The Decommissioning Squad closed in on her just in case. Abby stood aloft in her Supreme Leader uniform. Rachel almost lost her nerve right then and there. She was no longer Supreme Leader. She was no longer an operative the Kids Next Door.

It was liberating and terrifying. She didn’t want to leave yet, but it was Numbuh 100’s words that reassured her the day he left for his own decommissioning.

 _“Even the best ice cream doesn’t last forever,”_ she recalled. _“Eventually it gets eaten, but… that’s what makes it so special. So I want you all to enjoy the Kids Next Door while you can. Have fun, do good, and never give up on each other.”_

Her speech brought a whole new set of tears. Abby shoved the brim of her hat down. “We got this.”

Rachel nodded, turned on her heel, and felt the weight of the Decommissioning Squad matching her footsteps for the Chamber. The door had barely closed when the security siren sounded off and the light fixtures bathed everything in red. Her decommissioning was supposed to be shared by Holly and Megan, so when Fanny gaped at the destroyed chairs they had been strapped to, she quickly blew her whistle.

“WE’VE GOT ESCAPEES!” she bellowed over the alarm. They all looked to Rachel for guidance, but she shook her head at them.

“I’m just another teenager, Numbuh 86.” Rachel gestured to Abby. “Looks like you’ve got a job to do, Supreme Leader!”

Abby fixed her hat back up and bellowed with a confident sway that made Rachel beam with pride. “Numbuh 86, get all exits and entrances shut down, no ifs, ands, or buts! Numbuh 5 wants two operatives to escort the teenager for her decommissioning. The rest of the squad secure all decks for Numbuhs 399 and 832.”

“Yes sir!”

As Rachel quickly disappeared through the doors with security, another operative blundered on deck to hand Numbuh 5 an emergency report. “Supreme Leader! We’ve got Teen Ninjas on decks twelve, eight, and eleventy, sir! 399 and 832 have been captured by them!”

“Computer, on screen!” she ordered and frowned at what she found. “They’ve got the other two, so why are they still running amok on Numbuh 5’s...?” After dispatching a large group of operatives, one of the ninjas found the camera and threw a ninja star right at it. “Cree…” Abby growled and pulled up her sleeves. “Numbuh 5’s gonna deal with this personally! Hey-!”

A swarm of security suddenly bunched around her.

“Negative, Numbuh 5!” Numbuh 86 proclaimed and drew her weapon. “The Supreme Leader’s safety is high priority!”

Abby sputtered in defiance when security frog marched her away. “You gotta be kidding Numbuh 5! She ain’t gonna sit around while Moonbase is under attack!”

Despite the chaos, Rachel was strapped to one of the other intact chairs just in time for her scheduled decommissioning. She squared her shoulders back even through her trembling when one of the operatives set up the machine. Did it hurt? Maybe she should have asked Abby beforehand, but it was too late now.

There were a lot of regrets going through her head right now, so she shoved them inside and tried to stay calm when the power whirred to life and the plunger above her slowly closed in on her.

She instinctively recoiled back, her heart beating furiously in her chest.

“Just relax, teenager,” the operative said kindly. “It’ll be over faster if you don’t resist.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” And really, was that going to be her last words as Numbuh 362?

“Not for long,” the operative quipped and, despite herself, Rachel couldn’t help snicker. Then they both erupted in laughter. This was how she should end it. Her instructor back in the Academy had said she should go down smiling.  

The plunger came down hard on her face and stifled her laughter. Her fingers curled into the armrests and she instinctively fought against the restraints. Everything was dark and vivid at the same time. Words were morphed into numbers and her entire head felt like it was being dipped into a barrel of warm water. And for every breath she took before submerging again, another memory was being deleted or shelved from her consciousness.

Names came first. She couldn’t muster the proper codenames with familiar faces and couldn’t figure out why this angry red headed girl was important or why she needed to remember bespectacled boys and stern faced children. Places followed. She couldn’t recall how she felt the first time she stepped onto the moon or why a bottle of ketchup was being used as a weapon. Knowledge of every treehouse in the world trickled through her fingers without a chance to catch them.

Everything was moving backwards. The long nights working.

Protocols.

The name of her favorite drill sergeant. How nice the crunch of boots into the snow was to her ears.

Moonbase’s launch codes. The phone numbers of every teen operative that used to beckon to her call to arms.

Her brother remained, though a lot of it was bleached and hung out to dry. She no longer remembered his record-breaking proficiency assembling a _GLUMB_ or that he led Sector W. Everything that could be replaced was banal and nothing out of the ordinary. Cleaning up a villain’s petting zoo of children was nothing more than a trip to the circus.

Last night, she thought about what kind of person would come out of the decommissioning chamber. She’s seen former operatives remain the same and then others wildly different. So who was going to walk out of Moonbase in the next ten minutes?

 _Someone that I hope I can live with_ , was her last thought.

* * *

 

Chad stalked the decommissioning proceedings high above the rafters and kept to the shadows. His fingers twitched every so often because the longer he tortured himself watching an old friend lose her memories to that contraption, the more he wanted to spur into action and rip that plunger right off her face. He hated this. Such a waste. All of it. It was almost unbearable.

But if he did that, then Father would get exactly what he wanted. Enlisting another former Supreme Leader was much too tempting to pass up and perhaps this was the villain's roundabout way of getting back at Nigel Uno, who was forever out of his reach. The thought of Rachel willingly joining made Chad physically sick. There was no way, even if he saved her now that she would ever join the Teen Ninjas.

And if she couldn't be swayed, the Father had no use for her. Chad didn't want to think of how Father dealt with rejection. He's seen it firsthand.

So he let it happen. _Happy Birthday, Numbuh 362._ Hopefully a boring life was what she wanted.

He kept to the shadows and took a mental note of the side doors opening. Harvey McKenzie and the rest of Sector W had arrived for backup. The stricken look on their leader’s face as he watched his older sister fight against the plunger made Chad sympathize.

Something exploded above them in a rumble of thunder that made Sector W react with their weapons and guard the perimeter. It was as good a time as any for Chad to swoop down upon them with smoke grenades and a good thrashing with his ruler. He smartly smacked Harvey from behind under the cloak of smoke, knowing the kid triggered easily with physical touches. While Harvey howled, Chad smashed the light above Rachel’s pod and pulled the plunger off with a satisfying plop.

His target gasped and coughed into the blinding smoke. As she tried to gain her bearings, gently slid his gloved fingers along her jaw to unhook the belt around her throat. Then he tilted her head up so she could rise above the smoke and take in sharp gulps of clear air before another round of coughing came.

“Her pod’s been compromised!” A child shouted through the smoke. Harvey continued to rant and rave over who touched him.

Her eyes started to water from the fog. “Harvey?” The person in front of her started to lift the smoke around them with some kind of air canister. She caught a glimpse of a strong jaw and blond hair that was brighter than her own through his gas mask.

As Chad locked intense blue eyes with hers, she suddenly blushed, something that was definitely not a Numbuh 362 thing to do.

“Hello there,” he greeted with a wry grin. “You’re easily one of the top three cutest girls I’ve ever had the pleasure of kidnapping.”

A blank stare greeted him. Then she swiftly headbutt him right on the nose. That was definitely a Numbuh 362 thing to do.

He reeled back in pain, cursing loud enough for weapons to take aim through the smoke, and forcibly hauled her off the seat. She fought his grip and would have made some kind of progress if she was even one-eighth the former Supreme Leader she wasn’t now.

“Get off!” she shouted, but he was having none of it and bodily hauled her over his shoulder while nursing his bloody nose with his other hand. He could hear Cree drawing near. There wasn’t much time.

“Rachel!” Harvey screamed through the smoke. “Someone get the status on my sister, you idiots!”

She stilled long enough for Chad to take advantage and head for the back. He had to admit that she was a very difficult captive. Even with the KND training stripped from her, she still bucked and coiled around him like the potential operative she was. That was probably what attracted her to the recruiters in the first place. He found himself having to switch his hold until he had enough and knocked her out cold with a whiff of broccoli he struggled out of his pocket. His ribs were going to thank him in the morning.

Lasers and bits of peppers zoomed past his head when he kicked open the nearest vent and descended for the designated drop point. His unconscious target bounced helplessly on his shoulder on the way down.

“She’s out cold!” Cree had complained once they met back up in the shuttle. “That better not be what I think it is.”

Chad wordlessly strapped Rachel to one of the seats. If he was being unnecessarily gentle with her, Cree wasn’t inclined to comment on it. “Are you listening?” she demanded again.

“Just shut up and drive,” he snapped over his shoulder, his voice nasally as he continued to pinch the blood dripping down his nose. Cree instantly colored at his command, her lips twisting into an ugly mess, but the shuttle started to rock from KND popcorn cannons firing on all sides. With a hissing spit in his direction, she straddled herself over the pilot’s seat and roared the engines to life.

He didn’t realize the two new teen operatives were already buckled in the back of the shuttle. Amazed, they stared long at their unconscious Supreme Leader. She was decommissioned. They were not. He had to suppress the urge to snap at them. They were traitors. They didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her.

Chad spared one dismissive glance at them before joining Cree in the cockpit and wiped the blood away with a sleeve. “You can save us a trip to Father, Cree. They had her in the machine by the time I got there.”

Cree swore loudly as the shuttle quickly jettisoned off Moonbase and towards Earth. “But was it finished? Did you stop it?” He didn’t answer, so she continued. “Father’s gonna be pissed if we don’t bring her in. There might still be something valuable in her head. Launch codes, 2x4 tech, names-”

“Drop it,” he told her sharply. “Abigail’s Supreme Leader now. You’re just going to have to focus on recruiting her to the side. Unless you’re pulling hairs on purpose…”

The glare she shot him was glorious. “Are you saying I can’t handle my own stupid sister?”

“I’m saying the girl strapped over there is dead weight,” Chad declared coldly. “I just checked. Everything special about her is gone. If I had known she was a lost cause, I would’ve just left her there.” In his peripheral vision, one of the operatives flinched. He could care less. “Just drop her off and focus on scaring Numbuh 5. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Maybe it was the way he phrased his words or how he said them, because she didn’t pick a fight over it and focused on her driving. He idly thought about old habits. Despite being a junior villain in comparison to Cree, sometimes she still looked at him like he was still her Global Tactical Officer. She would lose herself after an order, as if she wanted to snap in attention and salute.

He watched Cree viciously bite into her bottom lip in mild fascination. Years have passed and Cree still couldn’t let go of her hate for the KND.

Or, perhaps, her _love_ for it.

Cree couldn’t turn back time, Rachel wasn’t Numbuh 362, and Chad would never go farther than the moon to reach his potential. They were all trapped in their own personal hells.  


	4. Year 1 - Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From one game into the other, Chad enters the board.

Why was she staring vacantly on the edge of the canyon? And why didn't she care? Rachel looked down but couldn't find a bottom along the large crevice. It was as if a shadowy fog kept it in a death shroud. The night air was so still, she wasn't sure if she was even _breathing_ anymore. There were no stars in the sky, but the moon hung low above the horizon, and was slowly turning into a reddened lunar eclipse.

Despite the darkness above and the emptiness below, the real war was within herself. Something echoed from the abyss, something important, something that was hers and now so far away. Maybe she felt nothing because she was as incomplete as the abyss.

But if she took one step, she would take the plunge into the unknown and find what she was missing. She didn’t know what would happen afterwards, but the urge was there, calling.

It slowly overwhelmed her. Delighted by the idea of returning 'home', Rachel used what strength she had to jump…

A shrill sound rang behind her from the land that stretched to infinity. A jiggle of chains followed by the sound of a clanging metal bounced through her ears, breaking her concentration through the haze.

The abyss was right below her, but she could go no further. Mildly bemused, Rachel slowly turned and found her wrist in a glowing, icy blue metal cuff. Her eyes traveled along the icy chain until it disappeared into the fog.

She experimentally pulled. The chain was taut to keep her in place, until something stronger tugged again, and this time it made her stumble entirely off the edge and back to safety. Annoyed, Rachel dug her heels into the dirt and fought the pull. The life bled back into her every time she struggled but it was not enough to stop the chain. For every triumphant step back, she was pulled three times farther towards the fog, which was slowly turning into a massive, gnarled tree as tall as a building.

With a final yoink, she flew headfirst into the fog. She held her breath, sure to suffocate, but she couldn’t hold it for too long. Rachel eventually gasped and coughed, only to realize that it felt like crisp, late night air. The fog around her shifted at her arrival and then expanded forever, filling the canyon and desert with life.

Feeling the wet grass around her ankles, she looked up and saw that even the eclipse had halted, leaving a tiny sliver of silvery moon left as a beacon. Her chain tugged her forward again and, with the fog now gone, found who had been pulling her this entire time.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “Why am I here?!”

_You belong here._

Rachel dug her heels again, defiant. "I don't think so!"

The chain yanked again, but instead of being pulled forward, she was thrown back to consciousness. The moon above wasn't on its way into a foreboding lunar eclipse anymore; it was now a sliver away from a new moon.

Disoriented and confused, she barely took in the rest of her surroundings. Slowly, she could make out the dark grass and the familiar windows of the family manor. The greenhouse further down was dark and quiet. Someone held her, almost in a bridal style, and found an older boy with coiffed blond hair and a bruise blossoming along the bridge of his nose. The memory was hazy, but she was sure she’s seen him before.

_Oh._ Her heart skipped a beat. Yes, she did. She knew all about him.

“Hello there...” Rachel whispered thickly, her eyes drifting to the area where she headbutt him. “You’re easily one of the top three cutest guys _I’ve_ ever had the pleasure of being kidnapped by.”

Chad stilled from her greeting. After he and Cree touched down, Rachel had gone into a strange fit in the shuttle and he tried and calm her while calling for help. There shouldn't have been any side effects from the decommissioning, but maybe the machine didn't completely finished when he stopped it.

Still stunned by her newfound cheekiness, he instinctively reached for her forehead in case she was feverish. She groaned gently under his hand. "What's the diagnosis, Mr. Kidnapper?"

“I didn’t kidnap you,” Chad said, and slowly pulled her to her feet. “Your dad hired me to unkidnap you.”

If he had been lying about that, they wouldn't be standing in front of her house. She shook her head, squinting through her memories. “Funny, I don’t remember the first kidnapping.”

There a heavy thunk of Cree closing the door of the space shuttle. “You can blame the Kids Next Door for that.”

Rachel wracked her mind for anything that rang a bell. “The… gang of children who causes problems for the town?” She could only remember what adults and other teens had told her. “What did they want with me?” she asked, looking up at him.

The older boy’s expression shifted so quick, Rachel almost missed it. Was he upset by the question? Dreading the worse, she pulled her shoulders back and showed him a brave face. “What did they do?”

“Not much,” he croaked. “We made it in time. Could've been gas or something that knocked you out and you're just not reacting well to it."

"Yeah," Cree drawled nastily. "That's _exactly_ what happened."

The front doors to the manor opened, bathing the large lawn in golden light. A middle-aged man in a fancy suit stepped out first. Mr. McKenzie’s hair was the exact same color as Rachel’s, but peppered with grey. His handsome, relieved smile greeted her when he quickly came over and scooped his daughter up into a hug.

“Are you alright, kitten?” he asked, pulling away to properly look at her. “Your brother’s going to have a stern talking for his antics. I thought he had better sense than to play pranks on his sister.”

Rachel was still terribly confused, but the sight of her dad comforted her. Sharing a smile, she properly hugged him tighter. “I’m fine, dad. Um…” She circled a finger over her shoulder at the teen boy.

“Chad,” he told her, mildly amused.     

“Well, of course she’s fine,” a heady voice said from beyond the front door. “After all, I only send the best for a family friend.”

Cree stood up straighter now as Mr. Wigglestein approached them in his silhouetted glory, and his hands clasped behind his back. Rachel had a hard time focusing on the man; maybe it was his inky suit causing problems. When she could finally look at him without feeling nauseated, Chad moved closer to her side. She didn't know why until Father leaned forward to properly look at her, which made her lean back out of instinct.

“And how are you feeling, Ms. McKenzie?” Mr. Wigglestein asked in a sickeningly sweet tone. “Still have all of your mental faculties I hope?”

Chad answered for her. “She was already in one of their pods when I found her. But don’t worry,” he added when Mr. McKenzie frowned in concern. “She is a healthy, _normal_ teenage girl.”

“I… hope so?” Rachel replied, brow furrowed. “I don’t feel any different. I don’t even know why… did you say Harvey pulled a prank on me?” Her lips pursed. “What is _wrong_ with him?!”

Mr. Wigglestein said nothing. He hadn’t even moved. There was something unnerving about that. “Tell me, young lady. What does the number _362_ mean to you?”

Even the noisy crickets seemed to stop. Unaware that her answer had consequences, Rachel just shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know.” She glanced at Chad, who’s expression was suspiciously guarded. “Do you?”

Cree leaned on the hood of the shuttle, amused and waiting for Chad’s answer. “Well don’t look at me. I’m just his ride.”

“It means nothing to me,” he said shortly, then shivered under the night air. She wondered why he was wearing only a t-shirt and jeans, where his hands stuffed into the pockets. The denim jacket around her shoulders made her remember that she never owned one. _It must be his._

Now she felt guilty for head-butting him earlier.

Mr. Wigglestein inhaled with disappointment, then rounded on Chad so fast, even Rachel braced herself for an equal scolding. “I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Dickson,” he said mock-pleasantly. "I believe one of my orders was to make sure she was _entirely_ unharmed."

“She didn't miss any more than a few hours,” Chad challenged, then gestured with a nod over to the shuttle. “And we had two more surprise extractions to deal with. One of them was an archivist and the other a hand-to-hand combat specialist."

"You don't say,” Mr. Wigglestein said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “I suppose I'll let it slide this time. But we will have some words about your performance tonight. Just to make sure you're not slipping up." The temperature seemed to rise, making the hair in the back of her head stand on end.

They weren’t going to argue on the lawn, were they?

Chad’s denim jacket hung heavy on her when she stepped back into his space, hoping it’ll remind Mr. Wigglestein that he was still on McKenzie property. “Can we go inside?” Rachel asked, swaying on her feet. “I don’t feel so…” She faked a swoon and collapsed into a faint, or at least tried to. Chad caught her out of reflex followed by her father.

She didn't have to fake the rest of it because exhaustion hit her so hard, she lost consciousness. The next time she came to, she was in her bed and the morning sun spilled over her sheets. She felt gross waking up in the clothes she wore yesterday, and when she pulled some of the covers back she covered her face in embarrassment. Chad’s jacket was all but tucked under her; she had clung to it all night.

Her mother would turn her nose up at such a cheap thing, but Rachel turned it in her hands, admiring the stitchings. His scent was still on it. With a burst of clarity, she recognized the smell that soothed her when she dreamed about nothing.

“I can’t believe you slept with your rescuer’s jacket,” she chastised herself. “Oldest cliché in the book."

“Good morning, princess,” A familiar voice teased. Chad leaned against her front door, arms folded and sporting a wide grin. “Did you sleep with that all night? I'm touched.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. “What happens in my room, stays in my room,” she said saucily. “Vacate the area, trespasser!”

Chad boldly stepped in. “You and what army?”

She answered by throwing several Rainbow Monkey dolls at him. One got him square in the face before retreated. That felt really _good_.

* * *

“After you didn’t come home from school, I received a call from Mr. Wigglestein," Mr. McKenzie said into his coffee cup. "His well-behaved children saw you with those ruffian kids and contacted us. We weren't going to say no to extra help.”

In the large family room, Chad draped himself on the plush couch as comfortably as a house cat. Rachel's father recalled the event beside him while Rachel had the entire couch to herself. One of the servants had filled the coffee table with all sorts of pastries and dishes during the cover story, and nearly knocked over the fancy open chess set that sat abandoned at the edge of the table.

Now that she was properly showered and dressed, Rachel could finally settle in her skin and assess the situation. Truth be told, there was something both comforting yet unsettling about the boy.

"So..." Rachel began, settling on the teen. "Chad Dickson, was it? Who was the girl who came with you?”  

“Cree Lincoln.” His smile was strangely terse. “My probation officer."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why are you on probation?"

"Not important."

Her dad smiled and shook his head. “Easy on the interrogation, Rachel. He brought you home safely. That's all that matters."

Rachel nodded, a bit sheepish. "Sorry." Chad just shrugged at her.

"So, this brings us to our next agenda," Mr. McKenzie continued. "Your mother is very concerned about the KND’s sudden interest in you and wants to put Mr. Dickson on retainer. He’s a local boy in the county, so he’ll always be on hand.”

Rachel’s question lilted with interest. “So you go to the public school?”

“McClintock, yeah,” Chad answered proudly. “Star quarterback, honor roll, student council. Model student, the whole shebang.”

She nodded. The itch to tease him was overwhelming. “That’s very important. We wouldn’t want to hire um… say, a resident bad boy who can’t keep his hands to himself. Someone who doesn’t intrude into a lady’s bedroom unannounced, for instance…”

“Ah…” Chad mirrored her posture, catching her sarcasm quickly. “Well, that’s very fortunate because I was attacked by a stuffed animal. And from _my_ experience, ladies don’t decorate their rooms with Rainbow Monkeys.”

Her eyes narrowed and her shoulders stiffened in defense. “Twenty-four hours ago, it was still legal for me too have stuffed animals, but thanks for helping me clean house."

There was another thing that bothered her. His eyes spoke to her like he knew things about her he didn't want to tell. But she was sure, aside from last night, that she had never seen him before in her entire life.

_And she would have_ , she thought begrudgingly. He was a pretty handsome guy.

Chad picked up a biscuit and ignored his tea. “So, do you want a cover sheet on my resume or is it just optional at this point?”

Mr. McKenzie raised his hand gently. “You came fully recommended by Benedict. That is enough for me,” he eyed his daughter, “and for her.”

Now Rachel was smiling, but not like her father, who was instantly charmed by Chad’s relaxed banter. It reminded him, oddly enough, of a challenge.

“We’ll see,” she promised, dark eyes glittering.

_So this was Rachel McKenzie before joining the KND_ , he thought with interest. There was something elegant and strangely wild about her.

Chad couldn’t remember when they actually chatted like this. There was maybe an odd conversation about meatball sandwiches back when they were both stationed in Global Command, but a lot of it was a blur. Numbuh 362 had been beneath his attention, even as his Global Tactical Officer in his Supreme Leader days.

If he had known how fun it was to play words with her and focus on nothing but making her grin like that, he may have approached her more often back then. A pang of nostalgia and mild regret colored his thoughts. It was just another thing he skipped out on in his quest for ultimate glory.

Mr. McKenzie apologized as his cell rang. "Well, it's settled then. Excuse me, you two." He left them to quietly size each other up, though Chad thought he had field advantage in that department.

As expected, she couldn't handle his intense stare. She looked away with a sigh, probably angry of a weakness shared by many girls in the presence of cute boys. 

“Hey,” she began, clearing her throat. “Did I thank you last night?"

"Maybe," he teased, "I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

"Then thank you," Rachel said dryly. "I’m still trying to piece together what happened last night." She fell quiet, remembering how Mr. Wigglestein treated her like she got lobotomized or something. "My head wasn't tampered with, right?"

Chad carefully picked out an answer. “I think… given your brother’s involvement with the KND, he wouldn’t have let them do any permanent damage to you. Odds are you were just the victim of _Operation Clockwork Grapefruit_.”

" _Clockwork Grapefruit_?”

“They stick teenagers in a movie theater and make them watch the _Rainbow Monkey: The Hugpire Loves Back_ multiple times,” he said casually. “You know the scene where all the little stuffed bastards encourage the audience to hit their highest singing note? It’s a great interrogation tactic.”

“Hypothetically speaking, what if the teen kind of _likes_ Rainbow Monkeys?”

Almost immediately, his gaze moved to the obnoxious orange Rainbow Monkey pajama shirt over her shorts. “Maybe that’s what happened,” he wondered aloud. “You enjoyed the movie so much, it caused mild brain damage... or at least added to it.”

"You think you're so funny," she said snappily. But a heavy thought hit her. Had Harvey come home yet? After all, he was the one who allegedly started all this. It was odd that she didn’t feel as mad as she thought. She just wanted to know if Harvey was safe, and if their father got a hold of him before _mother_ did.

“You like to think before you act, don’t you?”

She looked up at him, confused.

“You bite the side of your lip and glare at nothing when you think.”

Rachel tightened her lips together, but it only served to give her away. “Do you always just casually read body language?”

“It’s part of the job,” he shrugged, smiling. “You’re welcome to get even.”

Because he mentioned it, Rachel bit the side of her lip longer than usual when she sized him up. “Um… judging by how you stretch over the couch, you value your space-”

“I don’t mind a bit of one-on-one-”

“By nature,” she finished blandly. “You spread out to keep people from coming in. And I bet it’s easier to escape sitting like that.”

Chad fell silent which made her a tad smug that she finally got him to shut up. But his eyes said he wasn’t convinced - or he simply refused to accept it.

“Or, maybe I’m sitting like this because I spent all day straddling my bike,” he countered. “I don’t know why you rich people enjoy putting your neighborhoods on top of the tallest hill in the county.”

“Bike?” Rachel asked, completely sidestepped. “Like a motorcycle?”

“No. A shiny red one with training wheels,” Chad said sarcastically. “Of course it's a motorbike. I'm not eight years old."

She shrugged helplessly. “You joke, but there’s nothing wrong with regular bikes. They can be tricked out far more than just slapping an engine on it."

“Is that so?” he demanded. “Convince me.”

“Clothespins and playing cards,” she said defiantly. “Attach them to the back spokes and it sounds no different than the motor.”

Despite the sudden flicker of life in his blue eyes, he responded with a light scoff. “Not impressed.”

“Then don’t interrupt. I wasn’t finished.” Stunned by her commanding tone, he let her rattle on without interrupting. She added things like scrap metal casings to withstand water balloon damage or baskets with secret compartments to hide Nerf guns.

Chad devoured every word spoken. She didn’t even know what he had just nudged her into - that he had her explaining basic 2x4 technology - the kind of interview they recruited KND agents with. He could listen to her talk shop about 2x4 technology all day, and she didn't even realize just what her words made her capable of.

He wished he could tell her how special she was.

“So childish, McKenzie,” he said teasingly. “But points for creativity."

"I live to entertain," she said dryly. "Are you sure you're the best that Mr. Wigglestein has to offer?"

“Sorry, princess,” Chad replied, his tone now cool. “But I am the best.” When her leg started to shake with annoyance, he added, “Your mom was the one who specifically asked for me.”

Her leg slowly stopped shaking. She could handle maneuvering her dad to get what she wanted, but defying her mother? That was a really, really bad idea.

“Let’s say I hire you," she began, as if she really had a choice in the matter. “How do I introduce you?" When he gave her a questioning look, she added. "Say we go to... the grocery store. And the cashier is all, _'Wow Rachel, who's that guy scowling over your shoulder?'_ And, of course, I'd go, _'Oh, this old thing? That's Chad! He's my skydiving instructor!'_ You're _not_ , of course. It's just your cover."

"Even your butler has a _butler_ ," he pointed out smugly. "You've never been caught dead in a grocery store."

"That is not the point-"

"-And why are you and the cashier on a first name basis? Has anyone, in that factory you call a private school, ever held a retail job that didn't involve actually owning the store?"

Rachel sat forward, annoyed. "Are you done poking holes in my story?"

"Nope. And why a skydiving instructor?"

"Because I fantasize kicking you out of an airplane." An idea hit her, because her scowl slowly turned into a grin. "I could just say you're my boyfriend. That way, when I make you miserable, people won't suspect anything out of the ordinary."   

_Boyfriend._ The word itself jammed into his thoughts, dislodging and bringing everything to a screeching halt. He didn’t know why. He’s acted out the role plenty of times without much problem.

But this was different. This was a former colleague, a former operative, the last Supreme Leader. It almost felt unholy.

Rachel must’ve noticed the sudden sickly color on his face, because she straightened her shoulders and said glared, “Well that’s just rude. I’m not completely disgusting, am I?”

Numbuh 362, no, _Rachel_ \- wasn’t ugly. Even with the horrendous pajama shirt, she held herself in a confident way that could probably break a few hearts. And she sat like a proper lady, legs crossed and natural thanks to years of fancy obedience training normal girls her age couldn't afford to join.

But then he thought about her smile - the Supreme Leader kind - with defiance and missing baby teeth, and the interest plummeted straight down to his gut.

“Depends,” he answered absently. “Do you have all of your teeth yet?”

The bewilderment on her face was just legendary. “This is the weirdest job interview I’ve ever had the pleasure of conducting.”

“Likewise. Let's not get crazy here. Just introduce me as your bodyguard.” He gestured to the grand living room. “You can certainly afford one.”

She shot him a stern look. “Fine, but you can't hover over me if I ever do get a boyfriend. A real one. No one likes third wheels.”

That annoyed him for some reason. The idea just seemed… absolutely horrible. “You’re never going to get any kind of boyfriend with that shirt, McKenzie.”

“Don't underestimate me.” That sickeningly sweet tone brought a shiver up his spine. "You'd be surprised what I can do with very little to work with."

Chad almost wanted to backtrack. He certainly didn’t find _her_ ugly, not by a long shot, and he was all but convinced that she could back up her threat. Of course she was. She used to be a spy for the KND, something he thought was dead and gone after decommissioning. She must've always been like this. Maybe that was what got her recruited in the first place.

“If your supposed boyfriend can stomach an entire background screening, then I'll consider it,” Chad added. “We don't want a KND double agent sneaking in.”

Her nose wrinkled, unsure if he was teasing or not. “Double agent? This is getting a little overboard, don’t you think?”

“You’re rich, you turned 13, your brother’s defected to a terrorist organization, and your family shares baklava recipes with the Wigglestein family. I’d say you’re a prime target for anything these days. Especially KND double agent boyfriends.” He stood up and offered her a hand. “Are you ready for teenagehood, Ms. McKenzie? It’s going to be a wicked ride.”

Pulling down the hem of her Rainbow Monkey shirt - which she had to admit was getting a bit small on her - an idea hit her. She stopped shaking his hand, but didn’t pull away. “So now that we've clocked you in, I have a teenage bucket list to complete. Which means today I require your services.”

Chad raised an eyebrow at her.

“It’s a very important mission,” she teased. “You’re going to escort me to a very crowded, very dangerous area,” She gestured to her outfit, “for a new set of clothes.”

It slowly dawned on him what she wanted. “No.”

“That definitely wasn’t the response I was looking for.” When he tried to pull away, she held on tighter. _Deja vu_ hit her when he fought for his hand back, but she couldn’t make heads or tails why.

When he finally ripped his hand free and shook the tingles out of it, his expression was pinched with irritation. “I am not taking you to the _mall_.”

Her mouth opened for rebuttal, but well-manicured nails clicked loudly along the wooden banister on the second floor. When they both looked up there was a beautiful, but stern looking woman peering down at them. Her hair was much darker like Harvey’s and it was pulled up in a tight, immaculate french bun.

Chad had never seen her before, but from the way Rachel stood up straighter and smoothed the wrinkles of her top, he had a good idea who she was now. There was something about the woman that tightened his jaw and stole his voice without even looking at him.

Mrs. McKenzie slid her hand along the banister on her prim walk down. Every step was carefully measured and elegant, and watching her finally clued him in to the source of Rachel's upbringing. Her mother could make an entire room stop to just look at her. That kind of power was captivating. No wonder Rachel had what it took to become Supreme Leader through vote, instead of the usual TAG system, if her role model had been this woman to start with.

When her mother reached the living room, she clasped her hands together and focused undivided attention on her daughter. “Ah, you're awake. And how are you feeling, kitten?"

Rachel did a curtsy. It was a pretty impressive feat since she had little to work with in just a t-shirt and shorts. "A little confused, but nothing I can't shake off."

"Well of course," Her mother said imperiously. "You're a McKenzie. The only thing injured should be your pride." She finally acknowledged Chad's existence. "I see you’re getting to know the new help. Try not to drive him mad, dear. He’s paid through the year.”

“A year?” Rachel said incredulously. “That’s a little much, don’t you think?”

“Not at all,” she said haughtily. “I spare no expense when it comes to the protection of my children. Even if one continues to stray from the flock.” Her dark eyes lifted up to the stairs where Harvey stood. He looked like he had been forced into his drab school uniform and looked utterly miserable in it.

“Come down and apologize to your sister, Harvey," Mrs. McKenzie said sharply. "God only knows your superiors won't.”

Chad took silent pity on the boy. The whole charade was put on Harvey’s shoulders in order to keep Rachel’s decommissioning a secret. Even if it meant getting in trouble for it.

Rachel seemed to take pity on him, because she looked up at Harvey and said, in a very warm voice, “Don't worry about it, Harvey. No harm done.”

“That is enough,” her mother warned, her gaze now hard on her. “Do not coddle your brother.”

Even when chastised, Rachel still showed defiance. “I don’t even remember what happened.”  

“I’m sorry,” Harvey grounded out, still fixated on the floor. “We were just playing. It got out of hand.”

Rachel didn’t want to extend the humiliation further, so she said lightly, “It's fine. Uh, mother - Chad is going to take me to the mall today. A lot of my clothes don’t fit anymore.”

Mrs. McKenzie lifted a brow. “A new wardrobe? Hmm. Well,” she gestured to her, “if you are to go out, head upstairs and change into something a little less... orange. You are thirteen now - you have an appearance to maintain in public.”

“Yes, mother.” Sparing a bright smile for Chad, Rachel quickly climbed up the stairs and disappeared into the direction of her room. She shot a concerned glance at Harvey, who was finally dismissed by a wave of his mother’s hand. He bolted in the opposite direction, no doubt eager to return to Moonbase.

That left Chad alone at the mercy of Mother McKenzie. He had never personally met her before, which made this whole thing extremely suspicious. If they had never met, why did she specifically ask Father for him?

He had told no one of the promise he made to Uno. Hell, he didn't like reminding _himself_. It was almost too coincidental.

When she purposely walked closer, he had to summon the willpower to not back up like Rachel had done with Father last night. This was the woman that Father considered in high regard. He would be extremely foolish to underestimate her.

“I expected you to be a lot taller.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Mrs. McKenzie.”

She hummed, then turned away for the couch. “Well, I’ll not complain. You came at a discount, after all.” She crossed her legs and set her hands on her lap exactly how Rachel had done in that same spot. Her eyes focused with casual interest on the chess board to the side. “Benedict is absolutely enraged by your actions last night. I am sure all of this was an absolute ruse to get his hands on a competent Supreme... Leader, was it?”

He was right not to underestimate her. "You know a lot more than I expected, Mrs. McKenzie."

"More than you think," she said primly. "I would like to personally thank you for incurring Father's wrath."

"You didn't want her delivered to Father with her memories intact," he realized. "And that's why you've hired me."

Mrs. McKenzie smiled indulgently at him. "Consider this a gesture of my gratitude. You obviously have some sort of design on my daughter. As do I. And as do Father. Let's try and keep him out of the equation, shall we?"

Chad narrowed his eyes. "You don't seem as friendly about him as I thought you were."

She sighed in boredom. "Benedict is only a threat because of his... family connections. And most of us follow out of tradition more than respect. And I have always, always, made sure he knows that." Her smile was almost genuine. "I'm sure he thought my children joining the KND was a sign of weakness. You have no idea how much you've pushed his plans back now. Rest assured, it benefits both you _and_ I."

He didn't like this. Not one bit. "Why should I trust you?"

"I don't need you to trust me," Delilah answered calmly. "I won't even force you to accept this job. You are free to leave any time you want," She picked up the white queen and placed it in the middle of the chess board, intentionally putting her in danger. "Do you like chess, Mr. Dickson?"

He said nothing. Instead, he snatched the queen off the board and glared at the woman. His hands balled into fists as a surge of rage flickered within.

Chad wondered fervently if Uno knew anything about this. Not just about Father going after her, but her own _mother_ too. And was it so important enough that he had no choice but to ask his arch nemesis to protect her for him?

_She was never going to have a normal life_ , he thought angrily, even after she made the ultimate sacrifice to get there. _Uno knew this._

He hated all of them.

"I'm not going anywhere," he snarled. "You think I'm going to let any of you get away with cheating her out of her retirement?"

She leaned back and hooked her hands over her knee. "That is why I bargained for your cooperation. And while your allegiance is erroneously placed in that horrible Kids Next Door, you're directly opposing Benedict. _Enemy of my enemy_ as it goes."

Chad tightened his grip on the chess piece. "Which just leaves you conveniently left standing."

"I want exactly what you want," she said shortly. "Neutrality. If I can't have my daughter, then no one will. I would have her live free than be chained by your petty, children games."

"Rachel loved the KND," Chad countered, his mouth terse. "She was loyal to the end."

"If she was so loyal, why did she leave?" Her gaze pierced him. "Why had she not gone undercover like you?"

Rachel came down the stairs right then, and dressed not unlike her mother - a simple collared black dress that reached her knees. It reminded him horribly of Sunday mass. Or, more appropriately, _delightful._

And yet, she still gave him the same grin he recognized back in the KND.

“It’s the only thing that still fits,” Rachel said sheepishly, swishing her skirt a bit. The scary thing, he realized, was that she actually looked adorable in it. Her smile dimmed. "Are you okay, Chad?"

“Finally something that suits you well,” Her mother said, rising to her feet. She walked over and kissed Rachel on the crown of her head, then wiped an invisible blemish off her cheek with a thumb. “Dinner’s at six. I expect her home by then. Oh-”

On her way to the drawing room, she paused and turned to them once more. “-no denim, polyester, or primary colors. No pants or sneakers, unless it’s sportswear.” When they simply stared at her, she looked mildly offended. “Clearly you two can handle specific mission requirements, can’t you? It might as well be _second nature_.” Her parting words were hot on her heels as she disappeared. “Use dad’s card.”  

Chad shook long after Mrs. McKenzie left. Concerned, Rachel placed a hand on his arm and gave him a light smile.

"She gave you the shovel talk, didn't she? Sorry about that."

Her physically being there settled his nerves. It meant that there wasn't a chance any adult could sway her to their cause. He was here, not Uno, and he could make sure of that. If this was what 362 wanted - to be free - and he had the power to do it, would he do it?

He pocketed the queen, then took her by the hand.

* * *

“It was unfortunate that the battle fell from our favor, but the war is still within our grasp.”  

In an undisclosed location far in deep space, Numbuh Infinity held an important council with a cluster of GKND leaders from every nook in the galaxy. He kept a cool head on the receiving end of a reprimand, but things were not boding well. He decided to bring up his trump card. “The loss was worth the gaining of Numbuh 1. He is strong and of sound tactical mind. He will prove invaluable to the cause.”

After deliberation, an unsettling mechanical voice answered, one that would scare any human child with its monotone. But Infinity was much too seasoned, much too old to be affected by it anymore.  

“So he has,” the figure trilled in agreement. “You have chosen well, Infinity. Numbuh 1 is efficient. Loyal. Resourceful. Perfect. But it’s not enough. You will return to Earth and find more like him.”  

Infinity clasped his hands behind his back, lips pursed. “Numbuh 274-”

“-did not take well to the treatment. You are aware of this.” There was a cacophony of agreement from every screen. “He questions too much. The disease of adulthood burned within him long before his service to the KND.”

“He is just as loyal as Numbuh 1, if not more so,” Infinity countered. “If you told him to destroy an entire planet for the chance, he would do so without question. That is how deep his devotion is to the cause. I would prefer to continue to weaponize him on our side than the others’. You know what I am referring to.”

All of the conference screens reduced their chatter and for a moment, the only sound came from the static of unreliable intraspace connections. And then the lights below each screen started to blink randomly in alien symbols.

It was time to make a very important vote. After a long, almost daunting moment, the lights stopped and the stage around Infinity burst in a sterile white light. The mechanical voice finally spoke.

“Reevaluate Numbuh 274 if you must, but our decision is final.”

Infinity’s shoulders slumped a fraction.

They continued, “We will reach another consensus in five standard Earth years. If we can no longer harvest candidates for the cause, Earth will be redefined for possible neutralization. All agreed?”

The blinking started again, this time in hues of blue and green that signaled agreement.

Infinity knew the logic and wisdom of the Council, but it did not mean he agreed with it. They were right, however. Earth was joining the trillions of other adult-controlled planets in the galaxy. They were maturing too fast and more kids were escaping decommissioning everyday, bolstering enemy ranks.

He immediately returned to his office for a direct line to Moonbase. Numbuh 5’s legacy bordered on the cusp of civil war now. If that wasn’t going to end the KND, the Council’s ruling five years later will do it for them.

Unbeknownst to him, a vine-like tendril peeked around the corner of the conference module, then swiftly disappeared into the shadows.


	5. Year 1 - Rediscovery Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for two operatives to get reacquainted.

“We’ve got a **Code Whoa**! I repeat, a **Code Whoa**!”

Global Command came to a standstill as the very young operative came charging to the top deck and tripped trying to reach the Supreme Leader’s throne. Numbuh 100 immediately frowned, ignoring the stacks of paperwork that’s been passed to him all day. “Report, Numbuh 65.3!”

“Teens!” Numbuh 65.3 squeaked, doubling over to pant. “It’s Count Spankula’s brood! The Corporal Punishers!”

The deck erupted in chaos. Operatives tripped over themselves either to get to their stations or to run around listless and panicked. 

But the operative beside Numbuh 100 practically buzzed with excitement. “Hold yer horses, Numbuh 274,” he warned, then bellowed for all of the deck to hear. “I want all the decks sealed and the anti-spank squad down here ASAP! Not another inch o' this Moonbase gets taken, yeh hear me?!”

His words followed with the ominous flicker of the overhead lights. Were the hamster levels compromised already? Chad took a step back when darkness swallowed them all and nothing but the Earth shined without fail through the skylights. The doors locked down automatically while everything, from the consoles to the viewfinder, powered down with a menacing whir. 

Unable to fight the terror that came from the unknown, he instinctively reached out and grasped Numbuh 100’s hand. He squeezed hard as near everyone screamed.

Imagine his surprise when the Supreme Leader let out a very undignified, very feminine squeak. “Don’t worry, sir,” his captive said meekly from both pain and amusement. “I’ll protect you.”

When the backup generators flickered to life, he found his hand tight around one of the newest additions to Moonbase. Numbuh 362’s grin lifted along with the lights when he sheepishly pulled away. “Will that be all, sir?” She had the gall to _tease_.

He tried to collect himself by clearing his throat and fixing his helmet. How embarrassing. “As you were, Numbuh 362.”

“Yes sir!” 

* * *

So when the lights flickered out for a moment as they walked through the mall doors, Chad immediately reached for Rachel’s hand.

Her amusement filtered through the commotion of disturbed shoppers. “Scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Chad stilled as the memory colored his thoughts and he quickly pulled away. “That’s never happened before.”

“The lights?” When he nodded, she kind of gave him a strange look. “Isn’t that a good thing? If I was the owner, I’d fire the electrician if blackouts were this common.”

Point taken. But still, it left him on edge. Paranoia was what kept him on top of things. Even from something as innocent as faulty wiring. Ignoring the soft sound of surprise from his charge, Chad hand slid his fingers over the inside of her wrist this time and guided her forward when he was good and ready to continue. 

She reacted as he expected from any warm-blooded girl. While she short-circuited under his touch, it kept her blissfully silent, which he could use to his advantage in the future. It was oddly endearing, but also a touch melancholy, that something so simple as holding her hand would make her this happy.

So he expected nothing more from her than to follow obediently. That was his first mistake. Her fingers tangled around his with a renewed sense of purpose and quickly tugged for his attention. She was very difficult to ignore, he realized wryly. He gave her an inch so she could exploit a mile. 

“So… malls,” she began with false bravado. “How do we take advantage of it?”

Her words struck a chord within him. There was no malice in her words, but there was nothing normal about a teenage girl speaking as if this was a place to be conquered. But the way she spoke, with a casual smile that delighted the elderly ladies walking past, made his blood burn with missed opportunity. 

How perfect would she have been working undercover with him? For the KND?

Burying the inflamed thoughts, he calmly gestured to the food court and regaled her what the simple peons called the middle class used it for. Her lip curled in amusement. “You mean you can actually eat _food_ at the food court?”

“I know. It’s absolutely crazy,” he deadpanned, catching the sarcasm. “If it makes you feel better, I think they take Mastercard now.”

Rachel made a sound of lazy awe as they walked past the food court, though she took slower strides than he did as curiosity got the better of her. It was midday, so the mall was full to bursting with people of all shapes and sizes. While the adults minded their own businesses and chattering quietly with trays overflowing with fast food, the teenagers were more preoccupied with their phones or noisily talking among themselves. Some were even on dates, and she could easily tell because of how absorbed some of the couples were with each other, oblivious to the world.

With a snort, Chad reached from behind and placed a hand over her eyes, dragging her back into him. “It’s rude to stare.” 

“I wasn’t staring!” she protested as she tried to pry him off. His strength far surpassed her, and he easily turned her away before she got too distracted. 

He let her go once they were well out of the food court. “Yeah, you were. Looking for tips, hmmm?” She wasn’t the only one gawping at the couple making out behind the fake plants, but he sure as hell was going to call her out on it. 

“Okay, but did you see that? It was all in public!” Rachel sounded scandalized. It made him grin. 

“That’s the fun part.” A flash of concern flickered behind her eyes. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he added sternly. 

She still didn’t seem convinced. “But let’s say my hypothetical boyfriend-”

“Nope.” He brooked no quarter on this. “I don’t care if he bribes you with a private island.”

“Okay, okay,” Rachel smiled, hands up in surrender. “But if this private island is in the Pacific, that might be a deal breaker-”

This time, he reached behind her shoulders to clap a hand around her mouth before she got any cuter.

When he was thirteen, he didn’t look at these places in awe like Rachel did. Malls, gas stations, makeout points, they meant nothing to him. They were just venues that belonged to the enemy and a foothold to explore for the next mission. In a mall, he could take prospective girlfriends, all of them handpicked by TND intelligence, and learn everything about them just by their shopping habits. 

And from there, he can be _exactly_ what they wanted, and gather all the information to take back home.

When he loosened the proverbial leash so Rachel could have free reign on where to shop, he intuitively watched how she went about it. She took a step forward and read each store sign, then looked to the windows for the mannequins on display. Her back was straight and proud, no doubt instilled by her mother’s parenting, but the way she nervously fingered her collar gave everything away. And when he stepped to her side, he found her eyes glazed over with indecision.

What would he do? If she had been his target to woo, he would flatter her and gently make the decision for her. But this wasn’t that kind of mission. This was a fellow Supreme Leader who, for the first time in her life, was lost on how to go on without a legion of children to take care of. 

He looked down at her, feeling nostalgic of the last time he introduced her to a new world - or technically, her new lunar home. “Problem?”

“I’m thinking.” Even now, he was nothing more than an afterthought. Her thoughts were busy - _with what_ , he wondered, seeing as they had a very clear set of instructions on what to buy.

Chad couldn’t help but want to sift through whatever was going through her head. “It shouldn’t be hard,” he murmured close to her ear. “ _No denim, no polyester-_ ”

Repeating her mother’s words slowly snapped her out of her reverie. “I…” And then Rachel stopped, as if caught, and with a defeated dip of her shoulders, turned for one of the stores that offered the kind of garb you’d wear on Sundays to church. 

He caught her wrist. “Hold on.” 

She finally focused on him now that her decision was made for her. “What?” 

“That’s what I’m asking,” Chad told her firmly. “What do _you_ want?”

“I want what mother wants.” It was so quiet, but emphasized perfectly, as befitting a girl from a legacy of wealth. How she came from such stock and left the KND so utterly different was beyond his understanding.   

Remembering what he was set out to do, his grip on her loosened. “You really want to be like your mom, don’t you?”

Rachel flinched, but didn’t deny it. “You’ve met her. She makes the whole room turn just by _existing_.” There was an ache in her voice. "I want that."

Mrs. McKenzie commanded a room with little effort. And he had no doubt that her cold beauty would make her a darling to people like Father and the other villainous adults. But Chad could not comprehend Numbuh 362 ever wanting something like that; someone who treated her own daughter like a chess piece to be played at will. 

Rachel encouraged him to speak his mind, but he failed to put his honest thoughts to voice. He was supposed to play the part given to him, no matter how much he wanted to talk to her like they were comrades again. And, perhaps a tad angry, she sounded like she was nothing more than another teenage girl thirsting for power.

She was going to have to get through this alone.

He let her go. “It’s a big mall. Let’s get you the full experience before we decide on anything." 

“Yeah,” she said meekly, her eyes dancing around the kiosks. “I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

He liked her honesty at least, which was another thing she retained after her decommission. That openness made him rest a hand on her shoulder and guide her not unlike the first time he showed her around Moonbase so long ago. Rachel had instinctively leaned closer to him back then too, though now it was because of the leering teens in mohawks and punk leather jackets from across the fountain. Chad couldn’t help but poke fun at her.

“Warming up to me, are you?” 

“Shut up,” she warned, as her fingers dug his jacket for comfort.

It didn’t take long for them to find stores that catered more to their demographic; the problem was how diverse all of it was. Chad was a simple guy with simple tastes. He could walk into the nearest Gap, grab a pair of jeans and a couple shirts, and barely five minutes would pass by the time he was out the door.

But girls were different. They wanted to stick out and showcase individuality - not that it was a bad thing. Chad appreciated a girl that took time out of their day to look their best. He found it a testament to cleanliness and he supposed it didn’t hurt to enjoy a girl's outer beauty too.

But Rachel had no sense of identity yet, even if she leaned on her mother for direction. She still had time. He hoped that she would develop something that was _hers_ and not just a reflection of someone else.

As they spent the first half hour casually window shopping, Chad paid close attention to her face, which hasn’t changed from the pinch of deliberation yet. She wrinkled her nose at the jeans or anything too colorful, but she took an active interest in sportswear - things that would give a certain operative an advantage in acrobatics and speed.

A twinge of bitterness lodged in his throat. Rachel was no longer 362, so why was she torturing him like this? Why did it give him the ridiculous hope that somewhere in her broken mind she was still there? 

She did defy his expectations as they passed by a fancy boutique. An awed, utterly girlish flicker of light finally revealed itself when she admired a fluttery plum dress adorned in silver jewelry. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that other than she definitely would look great in it. That was a homecoming dress. He could imagine her spinning on the dance floor in a flutter of fabric, catching the eye of everyone in the room just by smiling. 

But the thought of _who_ she was smiling at in this theoretical scenario brought Chad’s mood south. The idea of 362 having a date, let alone a _boyfriend_ , just was ridiculous. She cared for nothing except for the KND.

That was what brought her up to him and Nigel’s level. They never stopped working, never stopped defending the idea of childhood - so much so, they neglected theirs.

Maybe this was what she needed. A second chance to be normal. And then, almost as a curious afterthought, he wondered if she still had time to become something other than a reincarnation of her mother.

“No secondary colors,” he reminded her, just so she could stop mooning over the dress.

She said, albeit hopelessly, “Thoughts on Banana Republic? If I could get mother’s approval on a few dresses, maybe...”

“It’s no different than if I shopped at Abercrombie and Finch,” he replied, gesturing to the store next door. 

Rachel glanced at the window and saw a pair of nice fitting grey jeans that cost Chad’s entire paycheck at Pizza Hut. “Those would look nice on you.”  

He scoffed coolly and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Of course they would. Hell, I can wear a burlap sack and look like I’m hot stuff, let’s be real.” 

She pinched her lips in exasperation. “Your modesty is the stuff of legends.” 

“I try,” he purred. “But you might be onto something with Banana Republic. Name brands carry weight, you know? Or wearing celebrity brands. Everybody and their grandma ran with Katy Perry’s hot dog dress two weeks ago.”

“Who’s Katy Perry?”

A teenage couple walking by shot her an incredulous look. 

“You really are hopeless, aren’t you?” Chad sighed.

“Mother doesn’t allow pop music in the house.” Her shoulders straightened. “She said that ladies shouldn’t listen to trash.”

Chad raised an eyebrow at her. “What are the odds that you sat alone during lunch?” He had been joking, until she fell silent. “Seriously?”

Her eyes clouded at that, which he thought was another telltale sign of decommissioning. She opened her mouth, then closed it, unable to put her loneliness into words. 

“I don’t know… I think I just focused on my studies more. You have to work very hard if you want to excel there.” 

“Or maybe you were more snobby than the snobs there,” he snorted, but regretted his words when the softness around her eyes disappeared.

“Do I… really come off like a snob?”

He thought about Numbuh 362 and her confident sway and boundless enthusiasm for the Kids Next Door. She had an entire army of operatives worldwide that loved her - still loved her - and she had no clue of any of it. 

What he should have done was console her. No, she was not snobbish. Far from it. But he just shrugged like a goon, something befitting the character he played in front of the Teen Ninjas. “You can’t help it. You’re not a normal person, what with daddy’s bank account and all.” 

She flinched at that, but for some reason he couldn’t help the frustration that poured out now. That she was here, but not here, and this girl just replaced one of the greatest Supreme Leaders of their era. Her family was snobby, her mother was a straight up villain, and she, more than anything in the world, wanted to be _just like her mother_.

Hell, he didn’t realize that he just said that last sentence aloud. That tinge of rage made Rachel step back and glare at him with such contempt it was a pure rush of adrenaline. 

“Don’t talk about my mother that way!” she snapped. “You know nothing about her!”

“I know enough,” he snorted, his skin tingling with a sense of wrongness. He needed to shut up now. “You’re a hair short of being a Delightful, McKenzie. Is that what you want to be when you grow up?” 

It was strange. When people got angry at his antics, he drew on that strength. He reveled on it even. And the way her lips twisted into a snarl was something he expected, but her eyes looked like she had just witnessed him kick a puppy, and he had to quietly admit that it wasn’t a look he wanted to be the focus of. 

“I don’t need you,” she hissed, her voice cracking. “And if you're going to insult me, just shadow me. Don’t speak, don’t do anything outside of your job. Leave me alone.” 

Her words stung more than he anticipated. It was enough that an apology almost left his lips - something unheard of. He never apologized to anyone; not even his own parents. But he felt like he went too far. She was trying her best to acclimatize to a new world, and Chad wasn’t doing any favors just dragging along the past like this.  

Rachel was already determined to step away from him and walk off. He suppressed the urge to reach out and stop her until a familiar voice bounced around the mall. He grabbed her with urgency before Cree got a hold of them.

“Hey!” Rachel fumed. She wasn’t sure when she learned how to understand body language but the way Chad’s back stood rigid mildly alarmed her. Were they in trouble?

Chad had all of his attention toward the end of the hallway where an entourage of teenage girls darted for them. The leader waved in their direction. “Friends of yours?” Rachel asked surly. She recognized the dark haired girl from when she was rescued, who seemed to be leading the group. Chad's 'parole officer'.

“Well, well!” Cree trilled once she caught up with them. “After what happened with Holly, I thought you’d never step foot in this mall again, Chad.” 

“Who’s Holly?” Rachel inquired incredulously.

“Not important. Stay out of my business, Cree.” 

“Oh, please,” Cree scoffed. “As if I care what you do in your free time.” The way she appraised Rachel over Chad’s shoulder spoke an entirely different story, however. “Or maybe I do. Rachel McKenzie, yeah? Such a cutie. I don’t think Sydney’s going to like being traded up for a younger model, but what do I know?”

The threat hung in the air. Rachel even clicked her jaw shut as the temperature cooled. On the one hand, Chad looked positively murderous. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he hissed between his teeth. “She’s a paycheck.”

Rachel’s lips thinned, visibly hurt as the girls minus Cree chortled. Having had enough, she shoved Chad forward and turned on her heel to get as far away from him as possible, and she certainly enjoyed the way the push nearly knocked him over.

“McKenzie, come back here!” he warned, but Cree grabbed him by the forearm before he could get one foot in edgewise to chase after her. 

With Rachel far enough out of earshot, Cree dropped her cover to scowl unpleasantly at him. “What the hell are you doing?”

Chad ripped away from her in disgust. “I’m doing my job, Cree. Something you’re not capable of.” He took pleasure in her sharp growl. 

“You said she was completely decommissioned when you grabbed her,” she accused. “Twenty-four hours later, you’re actually escorting her around. Don’t play games with me, Dickson. Just what are you aiming at?”

“I have my orders,” he replied coldly. “And I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”

Cree folded her arms. “Why is Father so interested in Numbuh 362?”

“Maybe you should ask him instead of me,” he said primly, turning away. “Now do you mind? I’ve got a former Supreme Leader to babysit-”

But his target had disappeared so fast it almost seemed like magic. Swearing loudly, Chad furiously stormed off with Cree’s sharp barks of laughter fading off with each step. 

“Clearly, you know exactly what you’re doing, Dickson.”

* * *

Without Chad nitpicking and judging every step she made, Rachel found perusing alone pretty refreshing. She found a couple of stores worth a second glance, but so far there wasn’t much that caught her eye. But despite her privileged lifestyle, she really just wanted something comfortable and simple to wear; something her mother might complain about but not entirely raise her nose up from.

“Hubba-hubba!” 

Rachel stopped in mid-stride to find a couple of teenage boys eyeing the Victoria’s Secret window. The poster they were ogling was a nicely shaped woman advertising the latest skimpy sportswear until one of the employees shooed them off. She inched her way close to the window and tilted her head at model’s playful wink, and a football in her perfectly manicured hands. 

Definitely not appropriate.

The clothes didn’t interest her, but the model did. She kept comparing the model’s perfect hourglass figure to her own - which looked nothing alike. It shouldn’t have bothered her, but Chad said on the way over that she looked like a pear and there was just an irrational belief in her that if a boy said so, it must be horribly true. 

“Why is this even bothering me?” she chastised herself. “Who cares what he thinks? He’s stupid and rude and…” Really, really cute. 

“Who’s rude?” 

Rachel turned and found an elderly store employee by the sample booth smiling pleasantly at her. “Oh, nothing!” she replied, a bit embarrassed. “Just talking to myself.”

The woman looked at the poster. “So long as you’re not considering buying something like that! You’re way too young!”

“Blegh, no way.” After a moment, Rachel self-consciously rubbed at her hips. “Tell me if this sounds weird, but do I look… pearish?” 

“You look like a pretty, young teenage girl who has a lot of growing up to do,” the woman corrected kindly. “Who put such a ridiculous thing in your head?”

“My bo-” She faltered, almost forgetting that this was technically a mission. Putting herself out there and admitting that she had a bodyguard on retainer wasn’t very wise. “Just a guy.”

But the store attendant mumbled angrily about typical teenage boys and how she should start looking for a better one. Rachel couldn’t help but add, “But he’s my first one.”

“Your first _what_?” 

They both turned. Chad had finally caught up to her and he looked pretty furious. “What’s wrong with you? I told you not to leave my sight! Is English a second language to you?!”

Rachel looked around and realized that yeah, she did end up on the other side of the mall. But she didn’t quite care that she inconvenienced him. It served him right for insulting her mother and calling her his meal ticket in front of his friends. 

The woman sniffed up angrily and pointed a warning finger at him, much to both of their confusions. “Young man, that is not any way to speak to your girlfriend!”

“Girlfriend?!” Chad sputtered indignantly. “Stay out of our business, you old bat.” He glared down at Rachel, who was trying to inch away from the scene. “And what is your damage?”

Before Rachel could explain herself, the woman took Chad’s insult like an angry bull in a china shop. Ten minutes later, they ended up taking a break in the food court because Chad needed to nurse his reddened jaw with a napkin full of ice cubes. 

“Wow…” Rachel began slowly, pressing firm with the ice. “I don’t think anyone expected a tiny grandma with a mean right hook.”

Chad glowered at her. “Shut up.”

“She shouldn’t be hitting kids though,” she continued with a thoughtful shrug. “Even if the teenager in question is just plain rude.”

“I’m not a kid. Finish your drink faster.” 

Rachel leaned back and sighed. “Must you always be so grumpy?”

He wasn’t in the mood to talk about this. He got up from his chair and tossed the ice on the tray. “Let’s just finish shopping and get out of here.”

* * *

Chad wasn’t petty, but if Rachel had to put more effort to catch up thanks to his longer legs, he considered that a victory. And there was no more wandering off anymore, not when she had to hold the hem of his shirt like a child as punishment as they fought through the waves of shoppers to their next destination. 

Malls were not fun. Rachel McKenzie has single-handedly ruined any positive experience here for him. 

As they passed the Gap Kids store, he felt that sharp tug down his shirt again, which meant that Rachel stopped. He took a deep, calming breath again. “What now?” 

She was chewing at her bottom lip as she focused entirely on a pair of jeans. “You’ve worn these before.” 

He opened his mouth to protest, but decided it wasn’t worth another spike in blood pressure. Instead, he decided to humor her, even when she was wrong. “Let’s say I did. We just met. How the hell would you know that?” 

“I don’t know.”

But the longer he looked at the jeans, the more he realized the stitching was very familiar. His mouth parted in confusion as they both leaned forward towards the display window. Then hard chill ran up Chad’s spine.

He _had_ worn those jeans before. _Years ago._ His mother bought a pair from the junior section and made him promise to wear it on his tenth birthday party on Moonbase. Panicked blue eyes shifted back to the teenage girl, who could only stare at the window with a confused frown. 

Rachel was just about to give up on her muddled memories when Chad suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her a bit. “Hey! Stop that!” she whined.

“Tell me more,” he demanded. The sharp look in his eyes made her still with fear. “Where have you seen them before?”

“I don’t know,” she repeated, frustrated. “I really don’t!” And when he didn’t pull away, she added quietly, “You’re really scaring me.” 

Chad abruptly pulled back. He almost broke his cover and mentally kicked himself for it. There was only one mission. She must never know. “Right. It’s just pants. Let’s keep looking.”

“What was that all about?” Rachel wondered to herself, her brow knitted in pure confusion. But when he glanced coldly over his shoulder, she abandoned the jeans and obediently hooked her fingers into the hem of his shirt again.

They walked for a couple minutes in silence. Her hand on his shirt felt like unnecessary weight. Feeling beside himself in angry shame, he pulled her back to his side and placed a hand on her head, delighting in her mild squirm. 

“What?” she grumbled, trying to shake him off. “I told you to leave me alone.” She stilled when he pulled her closer and brushed the bangs from her eyes in apology. 

“Can’t,” he muttered, finally giving words to his thoughts. “You’ll have to fire me first.” 

He must’ve said something right, or perhaps his eyes were a tad too fond for his liking, but when she looked up and saw them, her sour attitude evaporated and the hate in her eyes flickered out of existence. The adrenaline returned in his blood, but not in an unpleasant way.

It was just utter, boundless relief. Memory or not, she was still his little protege. 

After the last salesperson tried to invest Rachel in sea salt exfoliant (which Chad ended up in another shouting match with), they stayed clear of the adult-heavy areas and found comfort in an area designated for teenagers. Between the Forever 21 and Claire’s, Rachel stared up at a kitsch-looking store that was blaring music from inside.

“Look, Chad! A Halloween store,” she said excitedly to him. He looked like he’d rather dunk his head into the nearest garbage container than go in. 

“Now who’s putting up an act?” he snorted. “You know exactly what a Hot Topic is.” His blue eyes twinkled when she broke her facade and slyly smiled at him. “You live to torture me, don’t you?” 

Her snicker stirred something odd in his chest. “How am I doing?” 

“You have promise.” Which was the best compliment she was going to get today. He loudly groaned as she cheekily back stepped towards the store. “McKenzie, don't you dare take another step!” 

“But I want a nose piercing! No, no!” Her giggles turned into a full-blown squeal of laughter when Chad surged forward and yanked her away from the entrance. Numbuh 362 would never forgive him if he allowed her to do that. “Okay, okay!” she grinned broadly before sticking her tongue out at him. “How about a tiny tongue piercing?” 

His thoughts wandered to his first girlfriend, Nikki DeAngelo, who surprised him with tongue piercing followed by a pretty heavy makeout section. His brain shorted out while he stared stupidly at Rachel’s tongue. “Absolutely not. Your mom would kill me.” 

“How would she know?” she asked innocently. “No one would know. Just me. And… I guess you?” There was something in the way she spoke that made his mouth dry. That lilting, almost manipulative confidence that made people stop and pay attention to her - only her.

Her mouth clicked shut when he suddenly tilted her chin up and brushed a thumb along her lips, which forced her to hide her tongue and shut up for his benefit. She was going to be so damn problematic in the future, he realized, if she hasn’t already boiled the blood of every boy in the vicinity. 

Zero help him, it’s only _Day 1_. 

“If you’re not going to take this mission seriously, you won’t like what I pick for you.” The less they talked about her tongue, the better it would be for his sanity.

He purposefully stopped at a Forever 21, which wasn’t right up 362’s alley, but Rachel clearly approved. A thrum of egotistical pride returned to him as he watched her sigh at some of the mannequins dressed in modest summer flair that even Mrs. McKenzie couldn’t dismiss at first glance. 

She beamed enthusiastically at him. “Is that _taste_ I sense from you?”

“Ha. Ha.” 

Thanks to his luck, Cree and her gaggle of minions turned the corner for them. Now that she was bored with bothering Chad, she redoubled her attention on Rachel - preferably her taste in dresses. 

“Oooh, good choice,” Cree asked, her voice dripping with poisoned honey. “Let me guess - summer wardrobe?”

Rachel’s smile dimmed at the subtle insult. Chad suddenly fantasized about chucking Cree straight into a hot dog stand. But Rachel recovered quickly, he observed, because there was nothing left on her face except a flat stare and a distant smile. “I figured I’d find a shorter variant of this,” she gestured to herself. “for a funeral in Florida.”

To his surprise, Cree cracked a genuine smile. “Oh, you’re funny.” 

“What’s funny is that I think I’ve seen you wear that top two days in a row now,” he said nastily, already nudging Rachel into the store. Unfortunately, his barb now gave Cree the excuse to follow them around the store in an attempt to save her wounded pride. 

“Once again, the villain tries to play the hero, but I think we all know better,” Cree replied and pulled Rachel aside to properly introduce herself. “I’m Cree, in case you forgot. You’ll be attending high school pretty soon, hm? McClintock next year?” 

Before Rachel could answer, Cree had already snapped her fingers and, one by one, each of her friends swooped down to pull Rachel about the different skirts and dresses on the racks, which wasn’t unlike her day-to-day life at home. She was flattered by the attention, but she was also disappointed - she wanted to experience shopping on her own. It just felt like she was being waited on again.  

Chad kept a careful eye on her - but as far apart from the zoo of girls as possible - while Cree prattled on. 

“How did you guess?” Rachel asked politely.

“Honey, I know everything there is to know about that high school and its alumni.” Cree flipped her curls over her shoulder. “I’m the coolest piece you’ll ever meet there. Isn’t that right, Chad?" 

“Subjective,” he replied dismissively. What was Cree’s game, he wondered? The best he could wager was that she was trying to nab Rachel for herself to present to the boss. It was just too bad she decided to pit her scheming against Chad, who plotted every minute of every day, and had already predicted this happening sooner or later.

Cree lowered a chiffon top to raise an eyebrow at Rachel. “Has he been like this all day?” she asked pleasantly. “How do you deal with that?”

“He’s easy on the eyes,” Rachel said imperiously, then they both laughed at his expense, which was just an odd sight to see - traitor and former Supreme Leader just coexisting as catty girls.

“Let’s be friends. Mentor and protege,” Cree noted, which made Rachel beam with excitement. “I can help you succeed in places silly boys like Chad can’t.” 

Chad felt nothing short of absolute horror. 

When it became clear that none of what the girls picked matched Rachel’s _or_ her mother’s tastes, Cree sent her further down the store to look on her own, then stopped Chad with an outstretched arm to keep him from following.

“You know nothing about girls, do you?” Cree asked him saucily. “Let her breathe.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her. She continued with a roll of her eyes. “This is like - a rite of passage for every thirteen-year-old girl, Dickson. She can’t find her identity when she has to deal with your critique.”

“Her mother has a specific list of instructions,” he countered, only for Cree to give his chest a hearty smack. “Can everyone just stop smacking me today?!”

“Just watch,” she whispered, her gaze following deep into the store. “Let’s see if she’ll actually disobey authority.” 

* * *

Numbuh 5 was ignoring her duties back on Moonbase again, and there was no one capable of stopping her today. She knew keeping an eye on her sister would lead her somewhere, which she’s always done. Her paranoia seemed to be hitting Uno levels these days, especially ever since she became Supreme Leader. There was always a time and place to spy, and normally she didn’t take the time out of her busy schedule to follow Cree around at the mall, but the intel she got worried her. 

What happened on Moonbase last night and Numbuh 362’s subsequent kidnapping during decommission raised a lot of alarms in Global Command, who were afraid that Rachel may have escaped with her memories intact. Determined to prove that nothing could slander Numbuh 362’s name, it was Abby who ordered Numbuh 363 to check on his older sister. According to his report, she was dropped off by the Teen Ninjas, which probably meant the decommissioning was a success. Still, something in her gut told her this wasn’t the end, and she’s never been one to ignore her instincts before.

Until she discovered that Cree wasn’t trailing after Rachel but _Chad_ , the guy who played double agent right under their noses and then disappeared with Numbuh Infinity almost two years ago. And now here was, playing some kind of bodyguard, and chatting and talking to Cree like he didn’t just vanish off the face of the earth so long ago. 

Abby took off her sunglasses and squinted. “What in Zero’s name is goin’ on?” And if Chad was here, did that mean…?

Her back suddenly shivered as something brushed her from behind. “SUPREME LEA--MPFH!”

Abby quickly twisted around and shut Numbuh 86’s mouth with her palm before she could yell her entire name out in the echoing mall. 

“Will you keep it down?!” Abby hissed under her breath. “Why are you here?”

Fanny continued to muffle until Abby lowered her hand. “Why are we whisperin’?!”

“That’s Numbuh 5’s business,” Abby replied sourly. “Yer like a dog, Numbuh 86. Stop followin’ Numbuh 5 around!”

“Well, tis Numbuh 86’s business ter dog around the Supreme Leadah!” Fanny whispered angrily. “Yer supposed ter be up in Moonbase! As yer Global Tactical Officah, it is my job to make sure ye get there and coordinate the treehouses down here-ah!” She then riddled off the topics of today, like the anti-teen fence that needed the authorization to install or the popcorn room malfunctioning. 

All of this was just a buzzing static to Abby’s ears. She wished she had the time to ask Rachel how she dealt with all this busywork. It hasn’t even been a full day for her as Supreme Leader and already she was contemplating a game of tag just to get out of it. Zero bless the leaders who came before her who weathered the storm of paperwork and whining operatives.

And yet, despite two important members of the KND hiding behind a fountain, the everyday adult just walked past without so much as a glance. They might as well not have existed to them. 

From her peripheral vision. Abby watched as Cree quickly joined her targets and all three of them disappeared into the Forever 21 store. Desperate not to lose Rachel to the likes of Cree’s influence, Abby abruptly shot up from the floor and almost knocked Fanny over in the process. 

She should have ordered Fanny away first, but the redhead was already getting up and following Abby’s gaze towards the store.

“Why don’t you take point, eh Numbuh 86?" Abby quickly offered. "Numbuh 5’s just finishing up a mission where… where she gets new socks. Yeah, that’s right…”

But the damage was already done. Fanny’s expression changed from confusion and then into a twisted fury the second she saw Rachel visibly laughing with Cree beyond the shop’s windows. Abby did her best to grab her XO by the shoulders to try and shake some reason into her.

“You need to chillax, Fanny. Remember those breathing exercises! Huff, huff, fwoo!” But it only made Fanny more livid. 

“BATTLESTATIONS!” Fanny roared and threw her fists over her head in battle formation before charging through the startled crowd and straight for the store. Abby quickly donned on Nigel’s sunglasses and chased after her.

“HOLD IT, NUMBUH 86! THAT’S AN ORDER!” 


	6. Year 1 - Rediscovery Pt. 2

Cree’s friend, who Rachel wasn’t sure whether her name was Tammy or Tandy, kept trying to encourage her to add yellow to her wardrobe. It made her invoke her mother’s words, who thought yellow upon a blond head was just as bad of a color combination as Princess Ariel’s red hair matching a pink ball gown. And as more girls tried to encourage her with more outrageous color schemes, she was starting to wonder if her mother had the right idea restricting what she could or couldn’t wear after all.

Apparently, Chad thought the same thing. “She’s going to look like a banana come picture day.” He had been self-banished to a perch near the shoes. The way he slouched on the convenient plush chairs just oozed disinterest, like some kind of bored jungle cat. 

“Oh?” Cree sashayed over to lean into his space, aware that her proximity alone annoyed the hell out of him. “Bad boy Chad and his perfectly coiffed hair wants to share his own fashion secrets with us, is that it?” 

He leered at her. “I’m looking out for my client. It’s not my fault if this is starting to look like a sabotage.” 

“Hmm…” Satisfied, Cree pulled back and pulled out two blouses from the rack. “Fine. Since you’re surprisingly quite the fashionista - what do you think? Green? No, maybe not. Or perhaps… a nice, bright orange thing with purple stripes?” 

Chad glared at her.

“Pink!” Tammy piped up. “I think pink would look great!”

Cree quickly vetoed her, possessive of her own style. The more they talked about colors, the more he rubbed the bridge of his nose as a headache formed. “Look, I don’t care anymore. It’s almost six and I’m tired. Just put her in a potato sack and ring it up!”

Rachel wrinkled her nose at him when she returned, dresses in hand. “That sounds like a hungry grump than a tired grump. We can get something to eat afterwards.” Sometimes Chad reminded her so horribly like Harvey. It must be a guy thing.

“If it’s _possible_ ,” he glowered. “We’ll be here until midnight at this point.” 

“Yeah? Well your attitude is making this go even slower.” Rachel held up her bounty. He raised an eyebrow at the couple dresses in hand. They were pretty much the same style as what she wore now, though instead of morbid black they were varying shades of muted color.

She shook them at him. “Okay, look. Why don’t you pick one of these, okay? You’re a boy-”

“-am I?” 

“-so you’re a great outside perspective. Now rope in that attitude and tell me which one you like.”

For the sake of his sanity (and the possibility of food), Chad squinted at the two dresses. He didn’t see much of a difference and he was a tad disappointed about that. Cree told him to back off and let Rachel decide what kind of teenager she wanted to be, but he almost expected that she would deviate from her mother’s tastes in some kind of way.

He spared himself the warning look Cree shot at him and chose his words wisely. It wouldn’t hurt at all to just… tell the truth. “No secondary colors.”

Rachel frowned and looked back at the dresses. One was a distinct wine red and the other a muted navy blue. “These aren’t?” 

Cree’s long leg bounced over her knee in mild amusement. “Asking for his opinion was your first strike, McKenzie. You’ve got better chances squeezing blood out of a rock.” She gestured to the darker dress. “I like the blue one. It’ll go well with your eyes.” 

Chad thought they were both nuts, but he kept his tongue so Rachel can hurry into the changing room and get this show on the road. Cree wanted to talk his ear off about Teen Ninja stuff, but she always chose to wisely omit things of interest to a double agent, so he half-listened by this point. But just as Cree mentioned a new potential recruit, Rachel finally emerged from the changing room with a stiff confidence, clearly intimidated by her audience.

Now that she was actively modeling it, Chad could not help but notice a few subtle differences in her choice of dress. The collar was more clipped and the fabric very soft and airy which gave the skirt a little more billow when she moved. With her slight frame matching nicely with this style, perhaps Mrs. McKenzie did know what was best for her daughter. Some of the guys who were dragged into the store got a second glance at her when she did a small twirl to show off the back. It looked entirely uniform, but with a silhouette like that it was plenty obvious that she was no longer a child.

Cree and the girls golf clapped, but it didn’t seem to be done out of spite. Chad had to admit that he was off his game here whereas Cree shined. She knew what Rachel needed and he could do little to rectify that. But this also meant he had his work cut out for him if Rachel seriously considered hanging out with Cree more. 

“Oh, that’s cute.” Cree’s dark eyes positively glittered. “You look like a sassy Stepford.” 

 _Delightful_ would have been a more appropriate word, Chad thought, but he bitterly had to admit she looked completely at ease in it. As if taking his terse expression on cue, Cree smacked him on the shoulder and gestured to the new teen. “He doesn’t look convinced, does he? Give him a show, McKenzie!”

Rachel mildly blushed. “Here?”

“What?” Chad narrowed his eyes in question at Cree, only for her to push his cheek off to the side so he’d refocus on Rachel. 

The girls started to mildly chant ‘strip, strip, strip!’ and, pressured but grinning, Rachel obliged and popped the button off her collar. He rolled his eyes, realizing that she was teasing-

-until she popped the second button. And then the third-

Chad jumped to his feet and roughly closed the lapels of her dress shut before she could reveal anything. Rachel laughed through the manhandling, her blush in full force, and he could hear the girls behind him cackle with brutal glee. It was like they _expected_ this kind of reaction from him.

“Easy, easy…” Rachel cooed as he fumbled desperately for the buttons. “I haven’t paid for this yet!”

The other girls made loud, annoying sounds of disappointment. Chad did not care. What the hell were they thinking? He decided the heavy flush he was sporting was more out of indignant anger than embarrassment. And once he got the top button secured… he wondered if there was a button on top of that one that needed to be done. 

Like hell he was going to let them make her act like this. She was a former _Supreme Leader_. And they were trying to make a mockery out of her-

She placed her hand over his trembling fingers and smiled up at him. “It’s okay.”

He stared, uncomprehending. She was okay with _stripping_ in front of strangers? Because he wasn’t. And maybe he looked a little flustered, a little defiant, because her teasing smile turned reassuring, and she sighed. “Oh, Dickson. What am I to do with you?”

“Not strip,” he said hoarsely, even as his mind went into overdrive just thinking about it. That earned her another chuckle until the sound of a glass door slammed against the adjacent wall caused everyone to jump in alarm. Chad quickly turned, shielding her with his body, as his fight or flight instincts kicked in. 

Cree was the least affected, if not mildly irritated. She slowly turned in her seat as her entourage surged up to her defense, and wrinkled her nose at the sight of Number 5 in her new Supreme Leader getup. 

“You are not supposed to be here, Abigail,” she sneered. “What happened to your oh so precious Kid-Teen Treaty your last leader fought so hard for?” Her eyes drifted towards her sister’s fiery companion, who at first looked ready to kill, but was stricken once she met eyes with Rachel’s. 

“Numbuh 36-”

Chad quickly grabbed a purse from a nearby shelf and chucked it at her before she could finish. 

It hit her weapon hand and she fumbled it, only for Chad to throw another one at her again when she shot him anyways in retaliation. The softball sized ammo was new and much too fast for him to dodge out of the way, but Rachel suddenly seized him by the shirt and ripped him out of the way. They tripped over the footrest as the softball went through the window behind them and shattered.

Now Cree was pissed. She quickly got to her feet and whirled angrily on her younger sister. “Kids Next Door brats!” 

Rachel hissed in pain under Chad’s weight, but it didn’t last long. He quickly gained his bearings and pulled her up into a sitting position as her ankle throbbed and she couldn’t help but glare angrily at the two preteens and exclaim, “What the hell is wrong with you?! You could’ve really hurt someone!”

But Abby was just as surprised as they were. She furiously shook her head and waved her hands in denial. “I didn’t authorize- Numbuh 86, stop!”

Be it the consequences of her shot, the growing crowd of angry teens and concerned adults piling outside the store, or perhaps receiving the most hated look she had ever seen in her former friend’s eyes, Fanny could not keep her wits about her and panicked. 

This was all wrong. Chad was poised protectively over Rachel, with a blossoming bruise on his jaw still and a cold look in his eyes just daring Fanny to hurt her - hurt her friend? Why would she-

And then to dig into the wound, Cree stepped to the side to make herself an obstacle between them and her, as if _they_ were the bad guys. And Rachel believed Cree. She _laughed_ with her. Chad took her away. Cree took her away.

The Teen Ninjas took her away.

“GIVE HER TO ME!” Fanny could only scream, lost in her grief now that she had no friends left. She charged at Cree in a fiery rage befitting her wild red hair as Abby tried to grab her from behind, but her Global Tactical Officer just twisted violently out of her reach and not even two of Cree’s friends could topple her over. 

Chad snapped to his feet and grabbed Rachel’s wrist. “Handle it, Cree!”

“With pleasure!” Cree snarled, her eyes alight with excitement as they ran. She met Fanny’s rampage with a swift palm to the girl’s fist, and the knockback of the force itself seemed to shake the racks around them. 

He expected the KND to appear eventually, but not like this, he thought furiously. Rachel had no choice but to be dragged clumsily behind him.

“Where are we going?!” she demanded. 

“We’re leaving!”

“This is the _back_ of the store!”

He ignored her until they reached the register, where a bored looking teen popped her gun and pointed at the dressing rooms when he demanded the nearest escape route. Rachel sputtered in utter confusion when he opened up the largest one and ushered her in. That was when she really dug her heels (one at least) for him to stop. 

“Chad, this is a dressing room!” 

“Yup. Lock the door.” While she did as instructed, albeit in bizarre bewilderment, Chad put all of his entire focus on the full length mirror sitting against the wall. He banged on it twice. “Mirror, mirror on the wall!”

It asked mechanically, _“Who’s the coolest dude of all?”_

“The Steve.”

_“Access Granted.”_

The mirror swung open, revealing a dark cavern that was so deep, they couldn’t see the bottom. The only thing that promised that this wasn’t a straight drop to oblivion was the tongue of a metal slide presented to them. She stiffened when he took her by the shoulder and tried to encourage her through the secret door. 

“It’ll be okay,” he reassured her. “I’ll be right behind you.” 

“I have so many questions,” Rachel said over her shoulder before he nudged her onto the slide. “I don’t - kyaaaaa!” Her tiny squeal of terror bounced around the passage. Then, true to his word, he jumped in a few seconds after her.

* * *

As they made their escape, Cree held the fort down, knowing that if she kept them rampaging through the store, the adults would get involved. And if the adults get involved, well, she will positively _enjoy_ her little sister’s short stint as Supreme Leader.

So she threw everything at Abby, who had no choice but to help Fanny take out the gaggle of teens that threw themselves in defense of the store. While Numbuh 86 went after the mooks like a rabid animal, Cree opted to take Abby down through other means - techniques that could easily break her down.

“Oh, my precious little sister,” Cree tutted. “Or should I say, the exalted _Supreme Leader_ ? Or maybe _exhausted_ is a more appropriate word?” When she effortlessly blocked Abby’s kick, she taunted, “How’s your first day so far?”

 _Block her out_ , Abby thought desperately. Her sister’s love of psychological warfare was almost as sharp as her battle prowess. She almost forgot about her personal mission when she saw Chad. And where Chad was, so could-

“I can hear you think!” Cree taunted, vaulting into a sucker punch that made Abby see stars when it connected to her head. “Lesson learned, Supreme Loser!” 

Her sunglasses flew off and disappeared under a rack of shoes, but Abby was too busy digging her heels into the carpet to shake the daze off. If she didn’t hold herself together now, she might lose her head completely! 

“Enough, Cree!” she bellowed. “Numbuh 5 doesn’t have time for you!”

Her sister laughed, cruel and mocking. “Oh, Abigail. You never could focus on the right things! What’s wrong? Ah…” Her eyes lit up. “Looking for one of your loser friends? That explains a lot. I mean, it’s not like Sector V exists anymore, huh? Poor little Abby with all the powers in the Kids Next Door at her disposal, but she can’t keep a single sector together!”

That did it. Abby growled, wounded hard by Cree’s words, and practically threw herself at her sister for a beatdown she cared little to win from. She just wanted something to hurt - anything - to give Cree even a little sliver of how Abby felt and the burden now placed on her. 

But that meant her attacks were sloppy. Cree stoked the fire in Abby, then, after throwing her into a table full of purses, managed to sidestep Fanny’s reactionary kick. 

Cree continued to click her tongue in disapproval, her attention on Fanny now. “Ah yes, now I remember. You’re Rachel’s friend - oh, well, _were_ Rachel’s friend. As far as she knows, you don’t even exist.”

“Shut up!” Fanny snarled, her rage burning as hot as the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. “JUST SHUT UP!”

“We’re friends now, you know,” Cree continued serenely. “You should see how she hangs onto my every word.”

Abby raised her arm to get Fanny’s attention. “Don’t listen to Cree! She’s just egging you on purpose!”

“AND IT’S BLOODY WORKIN’!” Fanny charged forward, falling right into Cree’s tactics with horrible ease. 

* * *

After what felt like an eternity, the narrow slide stretched wide near the end, and Rachel’s screams turned into a painful yelp when she flew off and bounced onto a sturdy mat meant to break the hard fall. She flopped against the blue pleather, softly groaning, as she heard scraping sounds behind her. Unlike her, Chad landed effortlessly on his feet and brushed the dust off his shirt. 

“That was easy,” he said, then reached for his flopped princess. “But that landing needs a little work.” His humor dissipated when Rachel tried to stand, but then fell over the second she tried to put weight on her left ankle. The pain shot up her leg so fast, it was like lightning.

“Ugh,” she winced. “Why am I clumsy?”

“Might be a total shot in the dark, but…” Chad tucked his arms under her and scooped her up like a bride. She was so light to him it was near effortless. “I think you sprained something.” As she whined in pain, he was careful with her ankle as they made their way deeper into the large cavern, which quickly opened up to a room the size of a theater. With every step they took, pain shot up her leg, and her shoulders shook. 

“I’m not gonna judge if you start crying,” Chad pointed out. Her arms tightened around his neck and buried her face into his collarbone.

“Can’t,” she managed to croak, shaking her head. “It ruins the makeup.”

Chad scoffed. “Of all times to make jokes…” 

She needed a distraction, so she refocused on where the hell they were, and gaped at the cavern they ended up in. It was a large accommodating area, specifically designed for the comfort and entertainment for teenagers, almost akin to a very fancy movie theater. There were signs above metallic swished doors on the far wall indicating an arcade, skate park, and oddly enough, a war room. They all were closed, so she couldn’t see beyond them, but that didn’t seem to matter. The room they were in was more than enough for her to comprehend.

To their left, a digital screen as big as the room towered over ten large L-shaped couches and overused plush chairs to match. It was playing some kind of superhero movie on silent but only a few teens were chilling in the front with headphones on. No one paid no attention to them as they walked past. It was almost as if they were entranced solely by the movie or their phones. One teenager was even draped over one of the chairs, surrounded by nachos and obviously in some kind of junk food coma.

With her curiosity in full swing, Chad had no problem putting her down on the farthest couch away from everyone and snatched a cushion to elevate her leg. She twisted a bit on the couch to look over to the right side, which yielded an impressive open soda bar, and a counter that spanned the length of the room that could easily fit a hundred teens at once. The wall behind it was adorned with colorful bottles of expensive seltzer and neatly stacked kegs of imported root beer. All of it was clean and maintained, unlike the entertainment area beyond. 

Dizziness hit her now that the pain turned into fatigue. Her head lolled back until she saw stars, or at least she thought, because it was just the dim overhead lighting that danced in her vision. It was only when a hand cupped her face did she realize that her skin was turning clammy.

“You’re okay,” Chad promised, his voice carrying. There was a tinge of worry there, but it could have been her imagination. Something brushed along her cheekbone, almost tenderly, and she absently smiled and turned into the warm palm. 

“S’nice…”

He snorted as she drifted off to sleep, but his grin was fond until it went as quick as it came once she was passed out. Now that he didn’t need to entertain her, his natural coldness returned, which he needed this deep into enemy territory. 

When he was comfortable that the locals wouldn’t dare bother her as she dozed, Chad headed for the bar for drinks and extra ice for her ankle. No one was at the bar (as usual), so he rolled his eyes and hopped over to take what he needed. Luckily, there was a first aid kit underneath that hadn’t been gutted out, but he only stopped looting through it when his cell chirped twice.

Chad answered it immediately. It was silent on the other end, but that was par for TND protocol. He tried keeping it brief when he rattled off the password and finally, the silent operator patched him through to Maurice. 

“It’s not my fault this time,” Chad replied, his voice as quiet as possible. After a minute, he resumed rifling through the first aid kit. “Yeah I saw her. No, it isn’t.” He suddenly straightened, his hip propped against the counter as his conversation with Maurice turned salty. “I’m sorry, I was under the impression that dating her made it easier to keep an eye on the littlest one. Now, if you wanted me to take care of _two_ Supreme Leaders, you should’ve said so.” 

There couldn’t have been a worse possible time to reveal himself to Numbuh 5 given the circumstances. 

Maurice cut through the glib with a curt request that made Chad’s lips tighten into a line. “Stop for a second. Repeat that. What happened?” 

While Chad carried his conversation in private, Rachel slowly stirred as the pain ebbed to tolerable levels. Rubbing her clammy face, she strangely felt like she was being watched. 

“Chad?” she whispered thickly, unable to see him over the couch, and scanning the room around yielded no success. 

No one paid much attention to her on the couch, but there was a solitary figure that leaned against the wall next to the War Room, his arms crossed and intimidating. Despite the low lighting, she could tell that he was tall and lanky, with dark curled hair and pale skin that seemed almost sickly. The twisted disgust on his face made her struggle to sit up from the unease. 

Whenever she was fearful, she invoked the strength of her mother, and fought through the throbbing pain in her leg to glare back in cold defiance. They continued to stare each other in this strange contest as if daring the other to look away, until it was broken by Chad returning with a first aid kit, a bottle of ginger ale, and a dishrag full of ice. 

He set the stuff down and raised an eyebrow at her. “Why do you look like you just swallowed a lemon?”

“Someone’s is glaring at me over there.” Chad turned when she gestured, but no one was there. “I swear,” she urged. And when she described the boy to her, there was a moment of recognition that flickered behind his eyes, but maybe that was just a trick of the light. 

He dismissed her with an offering of ginger ale. “Angry teen, huh? Don’t take it personally, most us naturally look like that if you haven’t guessed already.”

Rachel wasn’t sure she believed him. She knew the difference between a simple scowl and a full-blown glare, and if looks could kill she’d be a crater by now. 

The lick of sharp pain returned to flit up her leg when Chad sat down beside her and lifted up her injured heel. His fingers paused under the buckle strap of her Mary Janes, which made her stomach flip unpleasantly from the next throb of pain.

“That’s what the bottle is for,” he pointed out, noticing her turn green. He waited for her to pop the cork and battle through her nausea before slowly getting her shoe off. “Huh,” he realized with a wry grin. “Stockings. How ladylike.”

“I’m going to kick you with this other leg,” she warned.

His fingers drummed along the heel, checking for any swelling there. “You really shouldn’t kick the hand that heals you.”

She hissed when he placed the bag of ice over her ankle, but she couldn’t shy away from the chill under his firm grip. “W-where are we?”

“The Chill Lounge. Every mall in town connects straight to this room.”

“This is probably the coolest place I have ever seen,” she breathed. This was the bastion of teenagehood and so she greedily drank it in, unsure whether she’d ever come back with a working ankle again.

Chad made a noncommittal shrug as if going down a slide into a hidden teenage hideout wasn’t a big deal. His interest was more focused on keeping her from flinching from the ice. “Hold still.”

“It’s cold.”

“Are you sure?” Chad teased, but he wasn’t cruel about it. He pulled the ice away to let her ankle warm up before re-applying it again. “This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t try to act like a hero. That was pretty reckless of you.”

“Reckless?” she repeated with disbelief. “Did you not see that softball going a hundred miles an hour at you?!”

He looked up, adding pressure to her ankle to drive the point home. “ _This_ wasn’t supposed to happen.” He gestured irritably at her ankle, then to the bruise on his face. “I can handle these. I was _trained_ to handle these. Now I have to explain myself to your parents why, after an afternoon into the job, I brought you home injured.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I just saved you a trip to the hospital and you’re complaining about wounded pride? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I’m not just a walking, talking paycheck? Maybe, just maybe, I have a little compassion for another human being?”

Chad picked up the Ace bandage and started wrapping it around her ankle. “Great. Save it for someone who actually deserves it.” He was so caught up in trying to wrap her up that he didn’t catch the words that left his lips with abandon. It was only when she fell silent did he look up again.

He wished he hadn’t. Her eyes, once dark with pain, was now a gentle concern that made him still. 

“No one deserves to get hurt,” she said softly. “Even you.” Then her gaze fell to his lap, where he had paused tying the knot securely around her ankle. Before he could retreat from her, physically and emotionally, she simply reached out and took his hand in hers, the very hand that took care of her. 

“Thanks. Seriously.” 

Chad tried to recoil, unable to process her sincerity. If this was a trick for sympathy, he had to admit she was a really good actress. 

* * *

To Abby’s surprise, Cree didn’t defend herself when Fanny punched her and, as the older teen reeled back, a new wave of anger rose within Abby. Cree might be bigger and stronger, but Numbuh 5 was like taffy - able to twist out of every situation and stick to her enemies with deadly precision. When she finally left herself open to attack, Abby took the advantage to kick her square in the chest and watch her fly into a clothing rack with a satisfying crunch. Before Cree could gain a second wind, Abby pinned her hard to the wall as expensive shoes came tumbling over their heads.

Why wasn’t Cree fighting back? She did little more than curl up and protect her face as Fanny shoved Abby aside to wail on her instead. Something didn’t feel right for Abby, however, and she quickly deflated and regained her surroundings.

Through the broken windows and scattered items, bystanders had their phones pointed at them, recording the fight. One guy even made snappy commentary about it while dancing on the balls of his feet.

_“These kids are just beating the tar outta this girl! You seein’ this?”_

_“Is that the Kids Next Door?!”_

_“Someone do something! They’re hurting her!”_

Oh no. Abby hastily grabbed Fanny and tried to scramble off of Cree, who was now grinning at them under her arm. Her lip was incredibly split and bleeding as a testament to their brawl. Horrified beyond measure, Abby couldn’t process doing anything else but to grab Fanny and run. Her stomach dropped when the crowd fearfully parted for them and their phones followed them out before security came. 

As Cree presented the crowd with a wail of crocodile tears to finish the scene, the nonchalant cashier watched and noisily chewed on her gum. After a moment, she picked up the business phone and mumbled into the receiver, “Patch me through to the McKenzie residence.” 

* * *

After Chad got a hold of a wandering teen whose parents worked in the medical industry, she had deemed Rachel’s injury superficial at best. Then Rachel came up with the idea to relax in the Chill Room until she could stand on her own. He actually didn’t care that he would have to explain to her parents why she was injured, but Rachel was very adamant they do it her way, and he couldn’t begrudge a good idea. The less he had to apologize for, the better.

At first he gave her no other choice but to nap, which she had to admit she needed given all the excitement. It was the comforting warmth of his hand around her heel that woke her up an hour later. His thumb rolled gently along the ankle bone in absent white noise while he was engrossed in his phone. It was achingly domestic. She even feigned sleep a few minutes more to enjoy it before he caught her.

“Who said you could stop?” she complained as he turned his hand away. 

He continued to frown, most likely from whatever he was reading on his phone, but he gave her heel a light pat. “Aren’t you pampered enough for one lifetime?” 

Rachel reached out her hand. “I should confiscate that phone before it eats up whatever brain cells you have left. What are you doing anyways?”

“Swiping left on girls,” he drawled, keeping his phone out of her reach. “The power trip keeps me sane.”

“What happens when you swipe right?”

It was clear she had no clue what he was saying. She probably didn’t even know what a social dating app was even if he explained it. Mr. McKenzie had shown Chad the burner phone Rachel was allowed to have in case of emergencies, but that was the only fancy tech her mother approved on. It was small, easily hidden, and came preloaded with various numbers of those who would unfailingly come to her aid whenever she needed it.

Given the old-fashioned state of her house and choice of casual wear he wasn’t really surprised. From what little he could recall, Numbuh 362 used her email just fine for day-to-day operations, and there was little doubt in his mind that she wasn’t okay with 2x4 technology. He then wondered what the McKenzies had against a social media presence. Even _Father_ had a Facebook profile he liked spamming posts on like every other ‘tech savvy’ middle-aged adult.

But he had to admit he was very curious what would happen if he gave her his phone. He swiped the sensitive information from his phone with a single stroke of his thumb and handed it to her. “This is unacceptable. Even my _grandma_ has her own Facebook profile. It’s like your parents are trying to age you from 13 to 130.” 

“We value our secrets,” she replied, her focus lost in the marvel that was Chad’s infinitely better phone. “Mother says it’s foolish to give the world free information without something in return.”

“Sounds like your mother alright,” he said dryly, then raised his hands in surrender when she glared at him. “But you’re a teen now. Loosen that leash.”

Her lips twisted in consideration as she played with his phone, but it wasn’t long before the allure of modern technology called to her with each swipe. He watched her expression change from mild boredom to a flicker of awe. “Oh,” she breathed. “You can play _videos_ on your phone!”

Uh-oh, he realized. She found YouTube. It’ll be weeks before he’ll ever see her or his phone again. “That does it. We’re getting you a new phone. A good one that proper teenagers use.”

“Okay…” she trailed off, her eyes glassy and lost to the screen now. Chad leaned over to see what she was doing. An old song gently played that was familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint the artist in question. But he recalled the words so vividly it startled him. 

_Cause we're living in a world of fools, breaking us down, when they all should let us be._

Ah, now he remembered. That had been so long ago. The Bee Gees played so softly in the kitchen while Maurice’s mother was baking cookies. Chad had been young, so very young, hiding underneath the dining table with his assigned task force waiting for Numbuh 100’s signal. Most of his squad consisted of a few newly graduated cadets all eager and willing to follow his lead. 

 _“Them greenhorns really like you,”_ Numbuh 100 had said. _“Let them nip yer heels a bit. Show them what it really takes to lead, I reckon.”_

He had been so focused on the task at hand, he almost couldn’t recall who was on his team. That had been a problem for him in the KND and why his recruiters suggested that he bypass joining a treehouse altogether. He worked better on his own, they had said, and he could make friends on his own time.

So he never really had that ‘close’ bond like Uno had with his sector, or any normal operative for that matter. He had fans and admirers and people to report to, but at the end of the day, all he could dream about is how to get better, smarter, stronger.

But his memories demanded attention. And the local 70’s hit station snapped him back to that moment where his knees dug uncomfortably on the tiled kitchen floor. But instead of focusing entirely on his radio, he turned his head at the sound of giggling. 

Numbuh 86, in her medic’s hat and a girlish smile that was going to be wiped away in a couple years, whispered something into her newest friend’s ear. The blond girl carefully listened despite her blank expression and then nodded with a very strained smile.

Looking back on it, he realized that she wasn’t smiling out of embarrassment, but because smiling was as foreign to her as he was at socializing. But boy did she try, enough that Numbuh 86 beamed proudly at Numbuh 362 and then erupted into a fit of giggles.

Mildly annoyed, Chad had said, _“Care to share with the rest of the class, ladies?”_

Fanny’s eyes had widened and she slapped both hands over her mouth as if her own lips would betray her. Rachel had stilled instead, her smile now gone, and the blank mask returned. It was rather impressive, he recalled, for a kid as young as six to be so restrained. 

 _“Don’t make me turn it into an order,”_ he added.

 _“It’s not appropriate,”_ Rachel said simply. _“But if you’re ordering it, I’ll tell you at a later time.”_ Fanny furiously shook her head and rattled out a litany of no’s.

Chad’s radio then cackled, _“KIDS NEXT DOOR, BATTLESTATIONS!”_

He never did ask afterwards about it. With the threat of weaponized chickenpox, Chad had his hands full picking up the slack of their Global Tactical Officer. So much so, Numbuh 100 recognized that he could do better at the job than Numbuh 582 and was swiftly promoted to XO after 582 defected. 

_We belong to you and me._

“You know,” Rachel realized, dragging him from his memories, “this dress isn’t paid for.”

“Yup, you’re a downright thief now,” he drawled. “And a saboteur at that since you’ve just singlehandedly tainted my Youtube recommendations now with your old fashioned crap.”

Rachel fixed him with a flat look. “If you mean _improved_ , then you’re welcome.” She started swiping at his phone. “How do you feel about Barry Manilow?”

“Oh no you don’t!” When Chad tried to reach for his phone she clutched it to her chest and hissed. “What are you?” he complained. “ _Gollum?_ ”

“Look at you trying to impress me,” she said saucily. “I had no idea you actually read something that didn’t have a cheerleader on the cover.” 

“Cheeky little half-pint.”

“Flattery won’t get your phone back.” 

“Is that so?” He inched forward.

She nodded defiantly, then scooted back away from him as best she could, wiggling the phone all the same at him. “Yup.” 

Her smile was back. Chad had to admit it was easier to look at than those wounded doe-eyes. “I’m getting my phone back,” he promised, his voice heavy. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

“I can take you - oh no! Ha, aha! Stay back!” Chad had lunged at her, which wasn’t that hard given how she was gimped by her sprained ankle. Rachel squeaked and tried to wiggle off the couch but he was much stronger and faster. It was almost inhuman.

He went for the killing blow, of course. Dexterous fingers scrambled along her waist until he got her by the sides. She couldn’t help but twist and laugh under the relentless tickling and almost dropped his phone. “S-stop!” she wheezed. “I surrender!”

“Do you?” Chad wondered, his grin more natural than usual, as he made sure she didn’t further hurt herself trying to escape the onslaught. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually played without an ulterior motive behind it. 

Well, aside from trying to get his phone back. That didn’t count. 

* * *

Everything just didn’t go to plan. In hindsight, Abby didn’t expect any of this to happen. Not with Chad or Fanny’s loss of control or anything. She had thought, perhaps foolishly, that her actions today wouldn’t have much consequences.

But it did. What she didn’t know until now was the importance of secrecy, let alone an image to maintain. To the rest of the world, the KND was just a large game kids played in to keep themselves out of the way from the adults. 

When she returned to Moonbase after ordering Fanny to hit the showers, an unexpected guest waited for her in her office. 

“Maurice?”

He was not allowed to step foot on Moonbase. None of the undercover teens were. It was too risky to reveal themselves to anyone other than the Supreme Leader so most communications were time-sensitive emails every once in awhile. To see the older teen there, looking out the window over the expanse of empty craters with a grave look in his eye made Abby lower her head in shame. 

She sighed. “I know.”

Maurice finally turned his head to her. “You know.” He sounded so disappointed. “But did you learn anything from it?”

Abby paused, running the question over in her head. “I’m not fit to lead.” 

“That’s not the answer I’m looking for,” Maurice said simply. “I’m asking did you learn from this.” 

He held up his phone. Abby tucked her hat over her head, knowing exactly what it was. “Cree did this,” she said angrily. “Of all the underhanded-”

“She did this because you made it easy for her to do it.” As the video played of her and Fanny ganging up on Cree, he took several steps toward her. “You are the Supreme Leader, Numbuh 5. You had no business planet side. This-” He gestured to the office. “This is where you belong now. Do you know how valuable you are? Do you know what would have happened if we didn’t clear the way for you and Numbuh 86 to escape?”

Abby balled her hands tightly. “I was worried about Numbuh 362.”

“Try again,” Maurice said sharply. “And try not to mistake me for a cadet this time.” When she refused to answer, he shook his head. “You can’t cling to the past anymore, sir. Numbuh 1 is gone.”

“Then why is _he_ here?!” Abby shouted desperately. “What is he doing back? If I’m the Supreme Leader, I should know these things, right?! Aren’t all teenage operatives supposed to report to me?”

Maurice was silent as he was whenever he needed to choose his words wisely. “You and I both know that Numbuh 274 operates on his own terms. If not his, then _theirs_.” He pointed upwards. “I can’t tell you anything more than what I do know. He returned to Earth alone. Then he went back to the TND to reestablish his codename and go back undercover. That’s all.” 

“That can’t be all,” Abby shook her head. “There has to be more.”

“If he won’t tell me, he definitely won’t tell you,” Maurice pointed out. “You were close to Nigel. And you know how Chad is. He hates being cornered. Especially by Sector V.”

She shrugged listlessly. “Sector V is gone.”

“Your Sector V? Sure,” he said casually. “Eventually you’ll have to appoint new operatives for your old treehouse. And then the next generation and the next. And that’s the point, Numbuh 5. But this?” He turned the video in his hands. “This is what Cree wants.” 

“And what Father wants,” Abby realized gravely. “There won’t be a new Sector V if everyone starts fearing the Kids Next Door.” With a sharp hiss, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “What am I going to do? How do I fix this?”

Maurice vaguely smiled. “Not alone, I hope.” When he pocketed his phone and offered her a pair of familiar sunglasses, Abby’s lip started to tremble. “You have an entire network of loyal operatives, Supreme Leader sir. And you’re going to need to lean on them when you’re forced to make difficult decisions.”

She took the sunglasses and stared at them as if they were something precious to her. “I’m not Numbuh 1,” she admitted softly. “And I’m not Numbuh 362. I don’t know if I have what it takes.”

“I don’t believe that,” he said kindly. “Numbuh 1 wouldn’t have made you leader of Sector V if he didn’t believe you could do it. And Numbuh 362 wouldn’t have made you Supreme Leader either for that exact same reason. They saw something in you. And so do I. That’s why I’m here. To remind you.” 

Sweet, understanding Maurice. He was always so kind and so full of wisdom. Tears threatened to slide down Abby’s cheeks as the weight of the KND began to buckle onto her shoulders. It didn’t help that Maurice placed a gentle hand on top of her head.

She wished she had the time to ask Rachel how she coped with the position. It just seemed too much for one kid to handle. 

* * *

“Is that so? And what’s this about payment? Ah. That can be handled. Thank you.” 

Perched comfortably in the living room’s love seat, Mrs. McKenzie set the phone down and tapped the bottom of her lips, her focus entirely on the chessboard in front of her. The white queen was missing, but she was not bothered by it. The pieces were scattered about on the board as if she were engaged in an intense match. 

She tutted at the board, almost bored. “So Father has decided to play his hand early. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve set up this board far longer than he’s ever worn that infernal ink pot he calls a _suit_.” Though she tapped at the missing queen space with a well manicured finger. “I wonder how this will turn out…”

Her musing was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Rachel appeared first down the hallway, her movements too gentle to avoid suspicion, with Chad keeping pace from behind. Setting her whiskey aside, Mrs. McKenzie stood up and placed her hands on her hips. 

“No bags and you’re two hours past curfew.” Her words caused both teens to pause. “Which excuse will you regale with me this time, young lady?”

Rachel had been so close to freedom. She had one foot on the stairs even. “A lady decides how long she should spend in a store,” she said, turning to face her. “What do you think?”

Her mother appraised her outfit with a critical eye. “It’ll have to do.” Then she gazed hard at her bodyguard. “Eventful day, Mr. Dickson?”

 _She knew._ Chad weighed his response carefully, hiding the trepidation creeping up his back. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Mother,” Rachel said steadily, even as her ankle begged for her bed. “I would like a cell phone.”

Mrs. McKenzie’s eyebrow lifted. Chad wondered if that was how scandalized she could get without breaking that stoic charm. “I beg your pardon?” 

“And I want to go to public school for sure next year,” Rachel continued, emboldened. 

“What brought this on?” Mrs. McKenzie demanded, her focus entirely on Chad like it was his fault. 

But for the first time, Mrs. McKenzie couldn’t steal his attention even if she tried. His eyes were glued to her daughter and the way that, despite being pale from her injured ankle and the price tag still hanging from her sleeve, she looked every bit in command as the day she first stepped forward to fill the vacant position of Supreme Leader. 

The words caught in his throat for a moment as he slowly grinned. “I think her interactions with the locals has colored her worldview.” 

 _She made some friends._ Mrs. McKenzie seemed unimpressed. “A cell phone was it?”

“And public school,” Rachel reminded her.  

The conversation lulled to an uncomfortable stop. Her mother neglected to respond, leaving them to stand and wait like vassals to a demanding queen. And then, almost sure that she was going to accommodate her daughter’s request, said abruptly, “Absolutely not. Now wash up for dinner.” 

He had hoped, no prayed, that Rachel would quickly develop the spine to go against her mother. But she simply glanced away and mumbled, “Yes, mother.” 

And there was a triumph in Mrs. McKenzie’s step. She turned and then said as an afterthought over her shoulder, “You are dismissed for the day, Mr. Dickson.”

Chad mockingly bowed until she left the room. “Well. You win some and lose some.” He didn’t want to admit that he was disappointed that Rachel didn’t fight the ruling. Instead, he watched her slowly climb up the stairs and resigned himself to see her safely on the landing before turning for the door.

“Wait a minute.” 

He turned, puzzled, as Rachel smiled impishly at him and undid the top buttons of her dress again. Wondering if he had enough time to run up the stairs and stop her, she unbuttoned the rest of the dress and pulled it apart. A burst of color greeted him, all in various shades of purple and orange, like an abstract sunrise painted on the soft, wispy fabric of the dress.

There was nothing he could say. He could only stand there stunned as the dress literally came apart from the inside out, brightening everything in the room with spirit alone. 

“I prefer some quiet wins myself,” she said smugly. “Good night, Mr. Dickson.” 

“Good night, Ms. McKenzie.” Perhaps he watched her disappear a little longer than necessary, but he couldn’t stop this strange smile that threatened to break out of his mask. It was a smile he hadn’t used since the day he was handpicked to join the Kids Next Door. 

The queen still heavy in his pocket, he approached the coffee table and properly placed her back in the middle of the board. He had almost forgotten a very important lesson that she unwittingly reminded him of.

Adults liked to play fair. But all it took was a simple sleight of hand to completely cheat through the game.


	7. Year 1 - Renegade Pt. 1

****Her name was Bethany. They met at a summer party hosted by one of the guys on the football team. She had a bright red bikini and low cut shorts that turned heads, but she only had eyes for the star quarterback. And with a reciprocating grin, Chad entertained her, raised her affection level, then promoted her to girlfriend before Riley even cranked out the BBQ.

Some of her hobbies included concerts, cooking videos, and volunteering a splinter group that safe housed high risk KND operatives before their thirteenth birthday.

But all summer love stories had to come to an end. Attendance was small in the TND conference room, but intimate enough that Chad didn’t have to put on the legendary operative act during the rundown. Instead, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes as the large screen to his left finished a compilation of everything he collected from his current girlfriend. 

School routes, hangout haunts, social media accounts. He had everything down to the number, so it was common for these meetings to last longer than the others. There was just so much information to glean over. But his meticulous style has cinched plenty of TND missions in the past and, even better, give them the advantage the next time upstarts like Bethany wanted to interfere in KND politics.

Beautiful, impulsive Bethany. She matched several profiles easy, but none was as close to perfection as she was for Chad - a stunner match at 93%. So he knew how to catch her attention, woo her, insert himself as the focal point of her entire world, and patiently waited until all of her secrets laid bare to him. After that, it was a rinse and repeat. By next week he had a new target to seduce.

Bethany’s intel had been quick, unlike Sydney. He was still in mourning over that for two weeks now. Not for the lost relationship, but the leftover intel that was just within his grasp. They had a simple misunderstanding that ended in a shouting match that was near legendary, so much so, his classmates continued to mimic the fight within earshot, especially the part when he practically kicked her off his bike when she became physically violent and then took off. 

Maurice had to take her home that night, so that was an interesting topic of conversation the next day. They got what they wanted from her, but it left Chad wholly unsatisfied. He had more to exploit out of her - and it was all because she had found Rachel in his bedroom wearing his clothes.

Never mind that the whole scenario was easy to explain away. Riding them through the sudden monsoon season via bike hadn’t been his smartest idea, so of course the first thing he needed to do was to get her dry before the Common Cold found out what they did. But he couldn’t lie to himself; he did find the whole thing amusing. 

And, perhaps, having her at home dry and dozing on his warm bed did him in by how domestic it was. She had looked at his jerseys in mild disdain, so he dared her to wear one. And that was how the princess of the suburbs graced the presence of peasants - by absently watching last year’s football highlights Coach Wetterhahn made them re-watch over and over during the off-season in one of Chad’s winter jerseys. It was well worth the misstep. 

To Sydney’s credit, she waited until after he was _out_ of the house to assault him. On the other hand, Rachel gave no shucks about how inadequate his form was throwing the ball ten yards into the end zone.

His reverie disappeared after a few beeps from the computer. Around the table sat a couple of veteran operatives, one of which had been in the TND for so long he had a stubble growing in. Chad never asked what happens after they were no longer age appropriate in the TND, unofficially named as it was. The Adults Next Door? Work fatigue was still a thing, even among their ranks. Maurice, as nice of a guy as he was, liked keeping his secrets about it, especially ones that Chad was not privy to.

When he asked early in his undercover career, Maurice just casually mentioned that they had a choice to quit entirely. It was plenty common for teen operatives to undergo decommissioning in preparation for adulthood. Chad couldn’t fathom doing such a thing. After all these years of service, it just seemed like a tragic waste to forget it all so easily.

At any rate, Chad rarely crossed paths with Numbuh T-1000 because the generational gap was just too great to make socializing believable. Why he was sitting in during the data leak interested Chad more than the meeting itself.

But knowing that Chad was about to mouth off something to T-1000, Maurice shot him a warning glance before focusing back to the screen. The operative in charge of compiling was a wunderkind with computers - the only weird thing was that she needed _absolute silence_ while doing her job. The last time someone tried to chit chat during Numbuh 2367’s data mining ended in an ensuing tantrum that was the stuff of legends. 

Numbuh 2367’s head bobbed in time with music in her own head, then with a flourish, popped up private messages of locations, codenames, and dates. “And Binbo was his name-o!”

 _“Bingo,"_  Chad corrected.

Maurice leaned forward and squinted at the PMs. “You were right, Numbuh 274. She was definitely using an Instagram sock puppet to communicate with the Underground.”

Numbuh T-1000 cleared his throat and said gruffly, “Is there any link between them and Father?”

Chad tilted back in his seat in mild frustration. “If there is, I haven’t seen it yet, Numbuh T-1000. She’s not connected to any of Father’s associates, let alone the man himself. I’d say that’s suspicious but...”

“And not even Cree has her on her radar,” Maurice added. “As far as we know, the Preteen Underground is not affiliated with any of Father’s associates.”

“Oooh! We’re just in time! Pip, pip!” Numbuh 2367 chirped, tapping at the screen in time to the warning beeps. “Next extraction is happening in Los Angeles in a couple of days!”

Ah, now Chad understood what T-1000 was doing here. The West Coast was a part of his jurisdiction, but it also meant one tiny aggravating thing. “So I get to do all the paperwork while T-1000 gets reap the benefits. Seems fair.” 

Maurice pointed his stylus at him. “No, what’s fair is you get a break while T-1000 cleans up for you. And I don’t want to hear otherwise.” He added the last part when Chad opened his mouth again. “I appreciate the speediness of this mission, but you went way too fast securing this intel. A week is way too ridiculous, even for you.”

Chad rolled his eyes. “You have a ridiculous talent for praising someone while lecturing them, you know that?”

Trading a look with T-1000, Maurice shook his head. “I just can’t imagine what your sleep schedule has been like these days.” 

“I’m fine,” Chad said blandly. “Look, if you’re not going to give me the satisfaction to kick some ass right next to Disneyland, just give me the next target.”

Maurice held up three fingers. “Unless you or someone important is dying, I expect radio silence for this many days. Go home, sleep, do whatever-”

 

* * *

 

“-it takes.” 

Chad looked up from his transparent pad. He had been deeply engrossed in the alien lettering as Numbuh Infinity went over Earth’s daily report. The office was small and its walls were alien and glowing in strips of neon color. The ship they were in orbited a little bit farther than Neptune, because transmission between the Sol System and the rest of the galaxy got strangely muddled past Saturn and, by the time any kind of ship made it past Jupiter, communications were all but too distorted to remain in contact with the mother ship. That made travel here a bit of an inconvenience for him.

“What?”

“Whatever it takes,” Infinity repeated. The entire desk was empty and devoid of knickknacks, because the surface was transparent and covered in alien symbols. With a negligible swipe of his finger, the symbols beeped in random places before it stacked upwards a static hologram of Father. “This _Project Phoenix_ Father is calling it. We require more information.” 

That was a problem. Chad simply didn’t know anything about it. As far as he was aware, it was one of those meetings only meant for adults. Not even his most loyal ninjas were allowed to guard the doors, let alone partake in what was beyond them. 

It was only by a stroke of luck that he even heard about it. Rachel’s father had mentioned it just out of earshot of his office when Chad had wandered past during his surveillance. Her mother was going to attend, albeit on the count that it was mandatory. 

This was day one of the so-called ‘vacation’ Maurice had imposed on him. “Father only invites adults to special named projects like that, Infinity.”

“Then it just a matter of becoming one.” From under his desk, Infinity pulled out a small device and set it in front of him. “Discover who is attending the meeting and we will arrange an inconvenience. Then you are free to go in disguise. I want your full attention on this, Numbuh 274. You are to be completely indistinguishable from this villain.”

Shadowing an adult took a lot of time to pull off. His mouth tight and his shoulders slumped back in defeat, he asked, “Is that all?”

Infinity gave him a dismissive wave, which brought Chad to dutifully excuse himself for the turbolift. 

But when the doors pinged and opened, one lone alien in a heavy hooded cloak greeted him. It said nothing at first, but it didn’t really bother Chad. He was far too used how horribly awkward aliens could be, especially the young ones.

 _“HeLLo,”_ the rider said, the language alien and warbling. _“GoiNG SiDeWaYS, HuMaN?”_

 _“DiaGoNaL,”_ Chad said casually. As the alien trilled with happy surprise, he slipped back into English. “Surprised, Numbuh Vine?”

“Not really,” The alien raised an arm and a vine-like tendril slid out from the sleeve to press one of the buttons. “You look so tired, human. All humans must have seven to eight Earth hours of sleep or you get craaaanky.”

He especially didn’t like the rest of the _galaxy_ telling him to take a nap, so he deflected the conversation. “You’re awfully far from home.”

“Am I?” Numbuh Vine clicked almost playfully under her hood. “I feel very much at home.”

“Ah, right. The closest salad bar is halfway across the galaxy. Must be fun visiting a world with so much vegetation.” As Vine nodded, Chad added with a smile, “Behaving yourself?”

For someone without a proper face, the expressiveness of Vine’s race was subtle, but understandable. Just by her lazy swaying, Chad could easily tell that she was amused by his question.

“No more than usual.” As the turbolift abruptly shifted and twisted like an actual Wonkavator, Vine tilted her head curiously in his direction. “Numbuh 274.”

“Yes?”

Whatever she wanted to tell him went unsaid, for the turbolift came to an abrupt stop, and they jolted sideways when the doors opened. More aliens of varying colorful races soon joined them and they were split apart onto opposite sides of the turbolift. 

The only thing he was able to catch from her was, “You remind me of-”

 

* * *

 

“Hm? There you are! How about a little pickup game with your old man, sport?”

Stifling a yawn, Chad stopped halfway up the driveway. His backpack was heavy with AP textbooks and the weight of the latest Honor’s Society meeting on his mind, when his dad stopped him with the bounce of a basketball. Chad instinctively dropped his books and caught it with bewilderment.

“Look at that! Still as sharp as a whip!” His dad praised. “Coach Wetterhahn just called today. He’s looking for an alternate for basketball season. You know what I said?”

“That your son is too busy to play alternate?” Chad asked hopefully.

“Well of course you’re not playing alternate!” Just as Chad relaxed, his father added brightly, “No son of mine plays second fiddle! If you want the best, you gotta make my boy _point guard_ \- nothing less!”

Chad’s voice very nearly buckled under the strain of over-achievement. “Except I _do_ play second fiddle, dad! Every other _Wednesday_ !” His concern fell on deaf ears as his father merely dismissed it with a grand chortle. Resigned, Chad lowered his head. Now he needed to calculate _another_ sport to his schedule, which was near fit to burst.

 _Did he even have time to think?_ He wondered, as his father adopted a hunched stance to guard the net hanging above the garage behind him. With a flush of anger, Chad threw the ball hard at his father, finding sadistic relief when he actually got it to connect with the adult’s stomach. But his father just doubled over and laughed breathlessly, as if his son did nothing more than playfully roughhouse.

Incensed that he didn’t get the point across that he was - well, _pissed off_ -  Chad picked up his bag and headed for the front door. Pick up game? This was just another show for the neighbors. As usual. 

His father huffed still, kneeling on the asphalt and grinning. “That’s the spirit, son! We’ll need that energy for tomorrow! Practice starts nice and early in the-”

 

* * *

 

“Morning.” Rachel said serenely.

Chad barely acknowledged her greeting. His head buried in his arms, he found salvation on the cool polished marble of the McKenzie kitchen island. He heard her gently slide a mug of something hot near his elbow, and hopefully peeked out from under his arms. “Coffee?”

“Hot chocolate,” she corrected. “Coffee stunts your growth.”

“A lie used to incriminate Big Java,” he grumbled and dipped his finger into the perfect swirl of whipped cream. “I’m way too old for hot chocolate. Energy drink or bust.”

Rachel scoffed and sipped on her own mug. Her free hand then reached out to sweep over the limp fringe of his blond bangs. “That too stunts your growth.” She shook her head as he nudged those tiny fingers deep into his hair like a content house cat. “If you’re not careful, I might just end up taller than you.” 

Chad hummed in mild annoyance when Harvey entered, because that meant Rachel had to pull away. The kid rifled through the fridge, ignored Rachel’s tentative greeting, and came out with an arm full of snacks that no child could conquer on his own.

“What’s the occasion?” Rachel asked, frowning.

Chad couldn’t help but tease. “He’s a growing boy. Isn’t that right, Numbuh 363?”

Harvey gave him the most venomous glare, which was only offset by a pop-tart in his mouth. “Buzz ohf, ass-”

“Language!” Rachel hissed. Harvey shot her a glare too and then stomped off. She sighed in disgust. “Don’t bait him like that.”

“That’s what the _Lil’ Terrors Next Door_ call him, isn’t it?” Chad couldn’t help but sneer. It was only when Rachel abruptly turned away and dumped her hot chocolate straight into the sink did he bite back on his words. “He really got to you, didn’t he?”

She did not turn back around. “It’s probably my fault. I asked him about the KND. And he got mad. Like, really mad.” She finally turned and his heart plummeted. Her eyes seemed so frustrated, so hurt. “I guess he hates me now.” 

Whatever exhaustion that weighed him down evaporated the instant she covered her face and all but crumpled into the sink. He got up and walked around the island to reach for her. “No he doesn’t.”

“Yes he does.” She covered her eyes just as he took her by the elbow. “I don’t know what I did wrong…” 

“Nothing.” He pulled her hands away and followed the tilt of her head until they were eye-to-eye. “You did nothing wrong,” he promised. “He’s a brat. They all are. But they’ll grow out of it and I promise he’s going to kick himself one day for making his sister cry.”

Rachel grit her teeth. “I’m not crying.”

He grinned. “Clearly. Just tears of frustration.” That made her hiccup, then quietly laugh. “If you want, I can make that kick happen sooner than later.” 

“What a tempting offer,” she murmured. “But you might get fired for that and I kinda like having you stick around-”

“-and torture me, I know,” he added. “You’re doing one heck of a job.”

Her smile softened. It made his stomach flip to see her resigned, but reassured. “Why thank you.”

With his daily act of good will completed, Chad took a step back and leaned back against the island. “I’m curious. What did you say to him that made him so angry?”

Rachel averted her eyes, if only to recall the disastrous conversation. “I said that… with the KND getting negative PR, it might make his friends quit. The good ones.” 

“The good ones?” Chad echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Assuming that the KND recruits,” she mused. “If I was a kid, I certainly wouldn’t want to join thanks to that video. But as dad says, ‘ _there’s no such thing as bad publicity’_ . I can’t imagine what recruiting would be like for the ones _inspired_ by the video.” 

It was like a light bulb went off in his head. “Oh my god…” He reached for her and cupped her face. “Genius.” Then he smacked one hell of a kiss atop her head. “Such a smart cookie!”

“Ugh, guy cooties...” she whined, her cheeks pinked and bewildered, as he doted on her like she was some kind of tiny dog. “Is this what middle class affection feels like?” 

“You just made my week a whole lot easier.” And honestly, that was all he could say about that. 

And she took it in stride, shrugging under his hands. “I’m glad to help?” As he yawned into her hair, her tone was gentle. “Take a nap. We’re postponed for at least an hour and there’s got a guest room with your name all over it. Just say the word.”

He couldn’t help but yawn again at the prospect of an expensive bed and the dark circles just barely visible under a layer of concealer. Her filled schedule was on an expensive, darker path, and guided by villainous mentors. Hell, this morning he was supposed to drop her off at a fancy finishing school that stifled individuality for a _delightful_ , well-behaved path. 

She wouldn’t buckle under the weight of expectation, but he understood exactly what it was like to be _tired_. So he couldn’t help but mumble, “Your room is closest.”

Her cheeks pinked, taking his half-baked suggestion as gospel. “Uh… huh.”

“What?” 

She gently pushed his forehead away. “Are you so tired that you’re willing to crash out on Rainbow Monkey sheets?” 

“Only if you’re in it.” The pause was just… _devastating_ once he realized what the hell insomnia did with his mouth. “That’s not what I… because you’re tired too. And for security purposes-”

Thankfully Chad’s savior came in the form of Mr. McKenzie, who retreated into the kitchen with a newspaper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. “Ah, Mr. Dickson. Good morning.”

Chad sprung away from her and retreated.

“Smooth,” Rachel said dryly.

Thankfully, Mr. McKenzie was too preoccupied with his paper to notice. “Actually, while I have you, we need to go over some alternative routes. There’s an accident on the freeway, so we’ll have to take the side streets to avoid traffic.” 

“Dad,” Rachel whined. “Chad’s just barely walked in.” 

But Chad was already up and alert. “I’m all ears, Mr. McKenzie.” He could focus a moment longer on alternative routes and not the thought of Rainbow Monkey sheets or a certain princess dozing along with him on them. After all, he thrived on improvising when a mission went south. He has never failed a mission before. He was still reigning champion. He was still the best-

 

* * *

 

“-YOU GOT?!” Coach Wetterhahn snarled, then blew hard on his whistle. The basketball team was into their third hour of practice and Chad trucked on through without fail. He weaved with the ball, delighting the girls in attendance and pissing off some of his teammates as he effortlessly tossed the ball into the hoop. 

Wetterhahn whistled again, then ordered them to hit the showers. Chad finished his cool down exercises first then caught Maurice under the shadow of the stands on his way to the locker room. He threw the towel over his shoulder with a sigh. Back to work.

Maurice dangled the folder above his head. “How was vacation?”

Chad’s eye twitched. “Just give me the damn target.” 

“This isn’t it,” Maurice said, his humor dissipating, as he handed him the folder. “You’ve been summoned as a witness for _Sooper-Secret Trial of Bad Behavior_ on Friday.” 

“Huh, I haven’t been to one of these since I was Supreme Leader.” He peeled open the envelope with stiff fingers and read the paperwork. His curiosity gave way to pure disbelief. 

“What the hell is this?” Chad demanded. _“Motion for Dishonorable Decommission?”_

Maurice rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve exhausted all avenues, but the damage done to KND’s image was viral. Numbuh 5 has immunity since she’s Supreme Leader, but-”

“So Numbuh 86 gets to be the lucky kid on the chopping block.” Chad smacked the folder against Maurice’s chest. “As if this couldn’t get any worse.” Hell, this may have been _his_ fault. If he had known in advance that Abby and Fanny were at the mall, he would have avoided the place altogether…

…but he’s learned that there was little he could do to change the past. The needed to mitigate, control, and then fix the problem. 

“Remember Friday, 8PM,” Maurice warned him. “Because-”

“It’s after Adventure Time,” Chad finished, heading for the showers. Their schedules (and Numbuh 86’s fate) reminded him that at the end of the day, they were at the mercy of a bunch of ten-year-olds. 

Maurice sighed. “Give my regards to our former-”

 

* * *

 

“-Supreme Leader,” Cree said dutifully, but boy did her smugness fill the entire room. “The video has been circulated from YouTube to Twitch. There are mentions of it on both national headlines and less so on Reddit, but we’re working on that.”

As much as Chad hated Father, the man knew how to pick out conference chairs. He all but napped in the comfy leather through Cree’s rundown. “Question,” he said lazily. “Are we really milking this video? The internet moves quick. No one’s going to care about the KND by the end of the week.” 

At the farthest end of the table did Father sit, his chair much more elaborate and comfy than theirs. He leaned in his chair and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Hm. Perhaps you have a point, Mr. Dickson. The internet is but a flash in the pan for outrage.”

“I disagree.” Cree predictably glowered at Chad, then roped all her ire to try and grab Father’s attention again. “If we can keep pushing the video into the spotlight, it’ll be ingrained into public image. Every time some impressionable kid searches for the Kids Next Door, they’re going to be pointed straight to this video.” 

“Let’s say it goes exactly as you planned it,” Chad interrupted again. “Then what?”

“KND recruitment hits at its lowest,” she said slowly, as if she had to spell it out to him. “No operatives, no future.”

Chad’s nose wrinkled with superficial doubt. “Is it though?”

Father leaned forward. “Ah, do you know something Ms. Lincoln doesn’t?”

“Well for one, _I_ used to be a Kids Next Door operative,” Chad said coolly. “Full tenure. _Supreme Leader_ even, in case you forgot.”

Cree sneered. “How can we when you mention it every chance you get?”

“Clearly, I know how the KND operates. I also know how recruitment works,” he continued smugly. “Do what you want, but it’s not going to stop the KND from recruiting. And they’re going to be desperate to fill their ranks. If they can’t find competent operatives, they’re going to turn to the undesirables. The kind that _enjoys_ seeing two kids beat up one of Father’s most powerful ninjas in senseless violence.”

Cree flinched and rage colored her dark eyes. “They didn’t beat me up! It was staged.”

“Didn’t look staged in the video.” His tired smirk turned into a vicious grin. “I don’t know what prompted you to do something like this, but if someone actually reached _me_ for counsel, I could’ve warned you about this. Can you really handle an entire organization made of you or _me_?”

The shadowed teens in the audience started to break their silence and murmur among themselves in worry. Cree was standing now as if she were ready to leap across the long desk and strangle Chad for his mouth. Maurice could only sit beside her, mildly impressed, until the arguments finally came to a head and Father slammed his palms down for attention.

“Enough! Mr. Dickson has a very, very good point.” And then he pointed at Cree just as she opened her mouth to protest. “But _Project PR_ is not completely lost, Ms. Lincoln. You aren’t entirely useless. _Yet._ ” 

Cree growled and flopped back in her seat.

“We will reconvene on Thursday to discuss the next part of _Project PR_ ,” Father continued. “And Mr. Dickson?”

“Yes sir?”

“I want you to supervise. And if Ms. Lincoln should put up a fuss, well -” He exploded in a blaze of shadow and fire, which licked the walls with animated flame, and caused everyone to jump out of their seats in alarm. “I WILL NOT TOLERATE HALF-BAKED STRATEGIES, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!” 

To her credit, Cree quickly cowed to his demands, but then rescinded her credit when she kicked a wastebasket on her way out the door. Maurice quickly caught up to Chad on the mansion lawn and thumped him on the back, impressed.

“I don’t know how you managed, Chad, but well done! And with you overseeing _Project PR_ , we’ll have it on the back burner for _months_.” He paused when Chad yawned again. “Unless you don’t want to-”

“Oh, please,” Chad said, mildly irritated. “As if anyone else can do better.” 

Maurice didn’t seem very convinced. “Well listen, if you need another pair of hands, just say so. What with Father, and Rachel, and your mysterious overlords…”

“Child’s play.” Once they reached the curb, Chad climbed onto his bike and secured his helmet. “Besides, I just stole Cree’s grand master plan out from right under her. I think I’m gonna ride on that high for awhile.” 

“So long as you’re still in such a good mood…” Over the roar of the engine, Maurice fished out another folder from his jacket and handed it to him. “Got a couple of new targets for you. One’s a 99% match to your profile.”

That got his attention, perking him up. “99?”

“Mhmmm.”

Chad couldn’t help but open the folder. A picture of a devastatingly beautiful girl greeted him, with a devilish smile painted black and neon red streaks darting through dark hair that could put Morticia Addams to shame. 

“Ah,” he drawled. “I guess style is the missing 1%.” He flipped a page and snorted at Rachel’s yearbook photo. “Very funny.”

“Thought that’d make you smile for once,” Maurice grinned, then whistled lowly. “That 12% match though. However do you get along?”

It was far lower than Chad guessed. His mood dampened, he shrugged and shoved the folder into his backpack. “What can I say? She’s an uptown girl, I’m a backstreet guy. It never works out.”

“That’s not how the song goes!” Maurice said loudly as Chad zoomed off.

And maybe it was also KND’s fault for this. When Chad worked in tangent with the Teens Next Door following his early teen years, they found his psychological profile matched well with the more dangerous targets. Whereas the calm, level-headed Maurice could reign in the volatile Cree Lincoln, Chad was often paired with the wayward teenage girls who had wondrous potential, but were simply lost in the ether without a sense of purpose. 

Chad genuinely liked playing the sharp, but gentle mentor; _the Supreme Leader_. He preferred it so much that it often bled out in times when he should be explosive and villainous. And despite the insults and barbs lobbed at each other, Sydney (or Bethany) could not help but crave for more attention, no matter what it was. She didn’t care much for flowers or dances, but she melted against his back as they sped off on a motorcycle at three in the morning, where there was no kids, no adults, nothing except each other’s company.

His musings brought him into a gentle roll over to the McKenzie residence where Rachel waited out on the curb with a duffel bag full of athletic equipment. Gymnastics was something she personally handpicked herself without adult prompting. And, predictably, it was something she actually enjoyed. So her attitude was peppy and relaxed, most of the time. 

They usually took a chauffeur and the town car, but today… 

“Do you have your permit?” 

Ah, Bethany. They had been so deeply in love. Or was that Sydney?

“Hellooo?” 

A small fist knocked on the visor of his helmet. He blinked slowly and took a long, suffering breath as he appraised her… all _12%_ of her. “Yes, Your Highness?”

Rachel pulled the visor up, gripped the sides of his helmet, and leaned over so he could properly hear her against the roar of the engine. “Are we taking your bike?!”

“Absolutely we are!”

“I am NOT climbing on without a permit! I need to see that _and_ proof of insurance.”

“I haven’t hit the street yet and you’re pulling _me_ over, officer?” He pointed hard at the empty spot behind him. “Put on the helmet and get on!”

Of course he had a training permit! There was no way his parents would have let him buy a motorcycle if he didn’t have one. It wasn’t like any other teenager asked when he offered them rides. Rachel McKenzie was the only teen he knew who took regulation and safety seriously. 

Eventually she had to accept defeat if she wanted to make it on time for gymnastics, but she tried to be slick with her hands to see if he actually had a permit on him anyways. When he turned his head and grinned, she glowered and properly wrapped her arms around his waist. _Nice try._

When they stopped at a red light, Rachel sat her chin on his shoulder and said into his covered ear, “It doesn’t sound like it’s dying anymore!”

“Thanks!” he replied loudly. “It’s the new engine!”  

He could feel her nod into his shoulder. “Did your dad figure out the…?”

“Yup!”

No one would actually believe it, but his dorky looking father had a fondness for cars, and had an active hobby in restorations. One of Chad’s early memories was sitting on a cooler and watching his father gleefully unwrap the shiny new parts he was going to put together for the ‘67 Shelby Mustang which was nothing but wheels and a chassis.

The Mustang now sat in a showroom with other hobbyists, forever beautifully restored and out of Chad’s reach. _“When you’re done with that Kids Next Door nonsense, it’s yours.”_

So Chad turned to motorcycles to spite him. Then he overheard his father brag to his chumps over the nonexistent cheerleader Chad was dating, so he turned the charm on his boss’ daughter just ruin his Super Bowl BBQ. This feud has been turning into a Cold War in their house ever since, so much so his mom had a list of things they were forbidden to talk about during dinner lest both father and son got lost in another shouting match.

The only thing they genuinely bonded in was the garage, though perhaps only because that was the one place in the house they were allowed to use the circular saw. For his fifteenth birthday, his dad went out of his way to buy a nice engine for his bike, but Chad had been so sure that it was some kind of bribe that he almost ruined his birthday over it. Rachel had to tell him to get the pine cone out of his butt and accept the present. 

 _‘You’re going to feel like crap you don’t,’_ she said angrily. _‘You’re not the only snowflake who hates their parents. But you can be the bigger person and make him a_ little _happy he did something right this time.’_

And maybe her words had a lash of truth. Aside from the basketball spat, his father seemed content to let him run amok without trying to further masculinize his son on a daily basis. And in turn, Chad indulged his father from time to time - even if it was restricted to the garage. Working on the bike together was slowly turning into a highlight of his day after running aground from all the double agent stuff.

Now if only _both_ of his parents could just… lay off him completely about where his life was heading. Chad always quietly wondered that, no matter how much stuff his parents tried to pile on him, if they were ever satisfied by him just _existing_. He was Chad Dickson, the all-star quarterback. 

Teen Ninja’s second-in-command.

TND’s best operative. 

GKND Liaison of the Sol System.

Honor student, violinist, theater brat, villain, heart-breaker…

“Hey…” He felt Rachel’s chin pressed against his shoulder. “You know I’m just playing with you, right?” 

“What?”

“I just wanted to say thanks for taking me,” she said loudly over the engine. “I miss hanging out with you!”

He didn’t know what to think about that, but she wasn’t wrong. The only time they really interacted these days was when he transported her in between his schedule or when they weaved around hers. Unable to help himself, he yelled, “What?”

“I said I miss hanging out with you!”

“You miss planking out with me?!” 

He killed the engine at a red light just in time for her to scream out, “I MISS HANGING OUT WITH YOU!” And then smacked him on the arm as people waiting in the lanes stared at her. It made him laugh. 

Huh. He may have needed that.

A familiar convertible with the top down slowly inched up beside them and waved. “Heeeey! That you, Dickson?!”

Chad recognized the guy behind the wheel as Rick, one of his football teammates, but the rest were all girls he didn’t know. The one closest in the backseat leaned out and smiled when Chad flipped up his visor to greet them. 

“Is that your little sister? That’s so sweet,” the girl purred. She was extremely pretty, with hair as black as night that tapered down into bright red tips that made her seem devilish. 

Chad’s heart may have skipped a beat. Love at first sight? Or perhaps he just recognized her from the file Maurice gave him? 

“I’m not his sister,” Rachel said curtly. 

“Sorry,” she replied, though she sounded anything but apologetic. “The blond hair threw me off. You’re just so _alike_.”  

When Rachel straightened up, Chad braced himself for the epicenter of her next blast. “We can’t all be as brave as the way you’ve dyed _your_ hair.” 

Rick and the other girls burst into jeers and laughter. Before the girl could recover, Chad started up his bike at the green light and sent them off. His grin only widened as she let the insult hang and pressed against his back with obvious smugness. Static rippled through his body and it gave him a strange second wind he sorely needed after his break up with Sydney… _Bethany_.

Eventually vacations end. He later sought her out to apologize for Rachel’s ‘juvenile’ behavior. That she was a side job and he had to humor her for the fat paycheck. He had her at the word ‘paycheck’ and stuck to him like glue afterwards.

Her name was Roxy. Dyed hair, green eyes, modest home life she routinely took advantage of to enhance her uniqueness, and a ‘dark side’ that no one understood. What really drew him in was her love of pure violence. Adults, teens, kids… they were all fair game should they cross her path. As she aptly put it, she would have climbed out of Rick’s car to tackle Rachel straight into the asphalt if Chad had not sped away that moment. Bethany (Sidney?) might as well have been a cheerleader in comparison.

Roxy had never been in the Kids Next Door, but boy did she try back then. Her rejection file only contained one sentence: _‘Does not play well with others!!!’_

And hell, that just sounded like a challenge to him.

When he took her out for burgers and shakes, she leaned forward, tapped his chest and said that her ‘dark side’ liked him. Then she kissed him right on the bike while the poor server had to stand there with their milkshakes. 

The Teen Ninjas wanted her. The TND wanted her gone. And Roxy was too busy absorbing Chad’s attention to bother with any of them, just like he wanted. 

So of course, he was madly in love again.

 

* * *

 

“What do you know about true love?”

Chad ignored her to give a short wave at the personal chef, who was the last servant out the McKenzie residence for the eve. Rachel had followed his heels with passion throughout his final inspection of the household and he figured it had to do with his new association with Roxy.

It didn’t take long for social media to reflect his new relationship. What really amused him was that Rachel must have her phone set up to pick up his notifications instantly.

He finally turned to her. She almost crashed into him for it too. “Read my status, have you?”

“I just think it’s a little ridiculous.” And boy, did she give him the snootiest look. “True love? At fifteen? Have a little respect for yourself.”

“Oh.” Now Chad was feeling a little vindictive today. He couldn't help but absorb the toxic energy of the know-it-all debutante before him. And when he aggressively stepped toward her like an apex predator ready for the kill, did she finally realize she had gone too far and needed to take a step back. “Are you trying to police my personal life, McKenzie?”

“Someone has to,” she spat out. There was no diplomacy here, otherwise she would’ve been wise and deescalated the situation, which meant that she was off her game for some reason. He cornered her against the front door and enjoyed the way she looked ready to lash out like caged prey.

Some reason indeed. 

“How cute of you to try and emulate mommy.” Because she just dripped of Mrs. McKenzie's attitude, except more inexperienced and petty. “When _Rachel_ McKenzie is done playing pretend, tell her to call me in the morning-” She reached behind her and locked the front door before he could walk out. “Unfair. You can’t seduce me like this, McKenzie. I’m off the market now.”

She wasn’t smiling, which made him smile more. Her dark eyes burned with something fierce. Was this jealousy? It looked very good on her. “I don’t think you love her.”

“Considering we only went on one date, probably not.” She stilled when he leaned forward and caged his arms against the door, trapping her. “I like this side of you, McKenzie.”

Rachel covered his mouth, silencing him. “If you’re just dating her to spite me, you can do it without hurting someone else in the process.”

“On the contrary,” he muffled against her fingers. “You’re the reason we’re together.” When she lowered her hand to free his mouth, he continued, “When I apologized to her on your behalf, it was like love at first sight.”

“Second sight,” she corrected irritably. Then after a moment of clarity, shook her head and tried to dip under his arm to get away. “You know what, I don’t care. Do your thing.”

“Ah-ah,” Chad tutted and gently pushed her back into the door. “That sister thing really got to you, didn’t it?”

“I don’t hold grudges,” she said dismissively, then added under her breath. “But I could’ve taken her.”

He grinned, horribly amused. “You’re the best not-sister I’ve ever had.”

Her lips twisted into a frown, though to him it looked a lot like a pout. “I hate you.”

“There’s my little spitfire.” His voice was lush and deep and it made her fall silent. He took a moment to drink in the darkness of her eyes, so defiant and accusing. And of course he lost himself in them. As Maurice had said, she was 12% his type. It would be quite the game to see what else about her is the other 11%.

But the timer on his phone beeped and it broke the warmed atmosphere. With a raise of an eyebrow, he checked his phone and pulled away with a sigh. “Duty calls.”

Rachel relaxed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have a sleep schedule?”

“This one’s kind of important. Life or death even.” And when she moved away from the door with a regal gesture for him to leave, he couldn’t help but say, “No kiss goodnight, princess?”

Her nose wrinkled. “Have you _earned_ one?”

“If you knew what I’m going to do, then yes.” After all, her former best friend’s career was in his hands tonight. “And no, I can’t tell you,” he added when she opened her mouth.

“Yeah well, even so, no kisses.” It was his turn to open his mouth to protest, but she stopped him. “You’re my bodyguard. It’s a conflict of interest.”

“I would bodyguard you so hard though,” he offered, teasing. “I need affection, McKenzie.”

“Aww…” she chided and opened her arms to him. “I can give you a hug. Do you not get hugged enough, Dickson? Do you want me to give you a nice big hug in front of your friends next time?”

“Absolutely n-yes. Yes. Do that. You have to now.”

That got her to laugh, genuinely laugh, but she quickly stifled it and looked up the stairs. Chad humored her and followed her gaze, as if preparing for her mother to swoop down and murder them for spreading cheer in this depressing old house. 

His smile dimming, he tapped her on the chin and grabbed his jacket. “Brush your teeth or Nightbrace will come into your room and give you braces.’’

“Yeah, it’s just too bad I don’t have a bodyguard to take care of that,” she said snappily.

 

* * *

 

Because _Sooper-Secret Trials of Bad Behavior_ took place on Moonbase, most teenage operatives would just to drop into TND headquarters and show up as a distorted floating screen for the trial. They tried not to visit unless absolutely necessary, either out of respect for Command or for high-risk security reasons. Some teen operatives were so deep undercover that Chad himself have never physically met them; as they only existed through monthly reports by means of wireless telegraphy.

Chad thought about going up there for old time’s sake. He had Infinity’s fancy watch to disguise himself as any other insignificant operative working the night shift but it wouldn’t make sense to attend playcourt like that. They were expecting a teen operative’s account of what happened, so he merely sat down beside Maurice in one of their more fancy meeting rooms and took note of the monitor in front of him. 

He blinked once at the web camera sitting on top of the screen and it blinked back. Then a single red laser scattered into many as it scanned him from the top of his head to his shoulders until it blinked green with approval.

 _"Operative credentials acknowledged,”_ KND’s feminine computer said gently. _“Logging you into the conference. Please enjoy this Yipper ringback tone while your party is being reached.”_  

“Remember when Sadie tried to bribe you with that Yipper #30 card?” Maurice said conversationally as they waited. “You had to call Sector V to drag her out of your office because she wanted to starve herself out of snack time just to get you to come out.”  

Chad leaned back in his seat with a lazy sigh. “Right, because of the wedding ring. Man, was she something. And for the record, that was my mom’s ring. I just forgot to give it to her after I fished it out of the sink.” He furrowed his brow and folded his arms. “Who leaked that?”

Maurice looked like him like he was crazy. “Numbuh 362 of course. Something about paperwork I think. You do remember that she was your XO, right?” 

“I know that,” he retorted. “I just didn’t know _that_.” 

“I thought you did,” Maurice said, mildly confused. “I know you did. Ah, well, I guess it wasn’t that important.” As Chad’s mood continued to sour, he added, “You were busy a lot. You can’t remember everything that happened back then.”

It wasn’t that important, he said, and yet now Chad was lost in the haze of his days as Supreme Leader to comb through anything else he remembered about Rachel’s tenure as his XO. But Maurice’s words rang hollow. He couldn’t remember ever sharing a _meal_ with her let alone telling her about his mother’s ring in casual conversation. But maybe he did and it just wasn’t worth remembering at the time. 

And the thought that he missed all these little cues, things that could have pieced together a picture of how he knew Numbuh 362, only frustrated him to no end. Had he really been so absorbed in himself that he knew so little of the comrades he had given his entire childhood to protect?

The computer cut the music short and announced, _“Welcome, operatives. The_ _Sooper-Secret Trial of Bad Behavior_ _has started. You may start the conference now.”_


	8. Year 1 - Renegade Pt. 2

“For old time’s sake, Numbuh 2,” Abby pleaded. “You gotta give Numbuh 5 something. Anything.”

It was an hour before the trial and late on the Eastern Seaboard so Moonbase quieted down for the night. The lights dimmed to accommodate hamster cycles and the grand treehouse hummed gently along as operatives left for dinner. 

The 2x4 lab was empty save for her and its supervisor. On the table was the weapon that was being forwarded into evidence - or at least a replica of it. It was the same weapon that Numbuh 86 nearly sniped Numbuh 274 in the head with. The prosecutor wanted it as key evidence to strip her XO’s rank and strap her to the chair early. 

Hoagie looked the same as ever, save for a dirty jumpsuit and a white lab coat over it. He took to his new department as smooth as the oil on his cheek and was recently promoted to Head Engineer after the previous guy retired. Abby had been so proud - and she still was. With Wally back on Earth to train recruits on Arctic Base and Kuki bouncing between holiday destinations as a representative for Hamster Resources, Hoagie was the closest former Sector V member she could reach for on her lonely lunar throne. 

He sighed and folded his arms. “I’ve told you before, Supreme Leader sir-”

“Don’t,” she said hopelessly. “It’s just Numbuh 5.” Perhaps, if there was more light, she could see the pink tinge on his cheeks. They used to be so close. They worked in the same treehouse and now they’ve never been so far apart. 

Hoagie nodded and placed his hands on the table to lean over the weapon. “I already sent in my report, Numbuh 5. None of the 2x4 weaponry labs have schematics on this and it definitely wasn’t authorized. It wasn’t even on the manufacturing list! No way would this ever leave the drawing room!”

“Numbuh 86 said it was in her armory kit.”

“And you believe that?” 

When Abby blanched at him, he backed up and raised his hands in the air. “Look, it’s not like Fanny is the most _stable_ operative. And she is turning 13 this year. And her dad’s-”

“Just because she’s got the deck stacked against her doesn’t mean she’s gonna end up a villain,” Abby said sharply. “She was Numbuh 362’s XO. Rachel trusted her.”

Hoagie frowned. “But you’re not Numbuh 362. And her track record with you so far is poopy, Numbuh 5.” He sighed when she dipped her head down and obscured her eyes with her hat. “Okay. Let’s say her kit was tampered with. Do we have any video stream of someone going into her locker?”

Abby slumped in her seat in defeat. “That’s the first thing Numbuh 5 checked. The only one who opened that locker was Numbuh 86 herself.”

“Booger identification logs, eyewitnesses, a wandering hamster that saw…?”

She smiled sadly. “Aw, Hoagie. No conspiracy theories? You used to enjoy crime stories.”

Hoagie tapped the barrel of the weapon. “But this is serious! This thing is designed using 2x4 technology, but it’s not. Sure, we have the occasional spicy weapon that might light a tongue on fire, but we never want to put people in a hospital! The most important rule of all with 2x4 tech is that we use it to _defend_ kids, not attack back. It’s just not… right.” 

Abby refocused on the weapon, her lips pulled down into a hard frown. Whatever carefree attitude she had seemed to slip out of her fingers as the weight of the Supreme Leader fell hard on her shoulders. This was sabotage, plain and simple, but it wasn’t so easy to prove. And that was unfair. It scared her. One misstep and she could actually lose her XO.

“There’s another thing,” Hoagie said sheepishly. “I added it to the evidence sheet at the last minute, so you probably missed it. But this thing is doubled-edged.” He tilted the barrel for her to see better. “See that latch? If Numbuh 86 had flicked it, she would’ve been hit point blank in the face instead.”

She paused, stunned as she turned it in her hands. It was a replica so it wasn’t dangerous, but she couldn’t help but treat it like a weapon of mass destruction. Hoagie was right. The barrel could’ve flipped on her during the scuffle and who knows what might have happened. She shuddered just thinking about it.

Just who in Zero’s name made this?

* * *

 

When mother was away, the daughter got to play. Rachel wasn’t sure when it started because a lot of things from her childhood were muddy to recall at best. What she did know was that she needed a bit of physical activity at night to wind down - almost as if she had spent the entire day sitting on her donut and little else.

But that was wrong of course. She had an active lifestyle and even her mother didn’t want her to rest on her laurels all day. So she did yoga or, if she was feeling especially moody, she had a nice run on the treadmill. 

After shooing Chad off, she retreated upstairs and eagerly began her nightly ritual of adult purging. Yoga pants, a tank top, and a treadmill. Then after that a hot shower and PJ’s for days. Recently she’s added streaming to her nightly ritual thanks to Chad, but that needed to be a secret. Her tablet was charged under the mattress and it called to her like a siren song.

Harvey was at the top of the stairs, just… looking down at her. Rachel stopped in mid-step and ended up in a very confusing staring contest with him.

They had a meeting a few weeks ago about Harvey’s delinquent behavior. The family psychiatrist upped his medication, but now she felt like his personality took a dip in the opposite direction. Instead of being impulsive, prideful, and energetic - he was more subdued, but weird, like her parents stuck a cork in him and he was one good shake away from exploding. She didn’t like having to tiptoe around her baby brother. It hurt that he treated her just above slime these days when he used to rely on her just to survive.

Rachel pursed her lips, tired of this game. “Take a picture, Harvey. It’ll last longer.” 

He appraised her from top to bottom, and his own lip curled unpleasantly. “What a mockery you’ve become.”

Her confusion gave way to annoyance. “I’m not the one standing there like I’m in a Kubrick film.” Then her expression shifted into resignation. “You know, I used to be the only person here you could talk to. And then you kidnap me. What’s that about?”

“What do you care? You’re too old to play this game.” His expression was cold when he shoved past her down the stairs. 

Rachel turned in disgust. “Harvey! Enough!” And surprisingly, that got him to pause. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but it sucks. If you can’t give me a straight answer then I can’t figure out what I did wrong!”

Harvey scoffed over his shoulder. “A straight answer? You’re a teenager. And that makes you the enemy. Simple as that.” He continued his descent. “Now leave me alone. I’m going to Moonbase - not like that means anything to _you_ anymore.”

_Moonbase_

A lash of static shock ran up the back of her neck and shot up into her brain. The sudden pain staggered her step and she would’ve fallen if she hadn't reached out and grabbed Harvey’s shoulder in time. A blurred white haze crept along the edges of her vision as if she was staring into a tunnel made of pure light. The pain seemed to bounce from one brain cell to the other and turned into a sharp migraine that made the world twist and bend beneath her.

Harvey viciously ripped himself away from her and screamed, “Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me!” As she clung to the banister, he tore through the stairs and ran for the front door. 

“Harvey wait!” she cried out, but a second snap of pain made her double over onto the stairs. The dulled pain in her knees was nothing compared to this headache as she all but bounced down the steps and onto the hardwood floor. 

She heard the front door unlock and swing open. In a last futile effort to stop him, she stretched out her hand, barely seeing her little brother in this blur of her vision. And then, before she could finally cry out from the blinding pain, a pair of brown boots entered her line of sight. Such ugly, cheap things wouldn’t be caught dead in this house.

So why are they so familiar?

 _“Hah.”_ The owner of those boots said fondly. _“And here I thought I was the workaholic.”_

She knew that voice, but she couldn’t put a face to it for some reason. Pain throbbed down the back of her head and she couldn’t help but reach out to those boots for help.

 _“We’re so close,”_ His voice felt like a soothing balm. _“I can’t let you-”_ And then like a buzz of static, those boots were gone, and the white along her vision slowly cleared.

Rachel pushed herself off the floor as the throbbing in her temple slowly faded and cupped her sensitive eyes. She couldn’t comprehend what just happened. Maybe it was just a wild hallucination from a lack of appetite. Or maybe she was just hormonal and it was just a hot flash. 

She shook her head. This wasn’t the time for fainting spells! She was unsteady on her feet, but that hasn't stopped her before, and she threw the front door open to stop her brother from leaving. "Harvey-!"

“Good evening, Ms. McKenzie.”

* * *

 

This was Numbuh $1.50 an Hour’s last major court case. Like Numbuh 86, he was retiring this year. Abby had expected him to defend them, only to find him at the prosecutor’s table and determined to drag Fanny through the coals either to prove his loyalty to the KND or because she hadn’t paid his prior fee three years ago over an incident with a sandwich. (Which they also didn’t win from.)

So Numbuh 5 was dealing with a prosecutor who also had a vendetta against Fanny. They barely walked through the doors and they were already in trouble. 

Fanny’s mood was no better. Instead of sharp fury, it was like a bucket of water dumped over her fire, leaving nothing but mud and ashes. She was quiet, too quiet for Abby’s comfort, and did little for her case but repeat her defense. Someone had put the weapon in her locker and she had used it recklessly without realizing what it actually did. 

Normally this case wouldn’t go this far into a courtroom. Most of the time they could wave the kid off and do their own internal investigations, but Fanny had a reputation followed by her quickening status towards retirement. Kids were easily to explain away; preteens not so much. 

Numbuh Judge 2D clapped her Rainbow Monkey gavel, which squeaked loudly over the crowd of chattering operatives. A jury of Fanny’s peers hung to their right. Most of them were heads of departments, including Numbuh 2, though he was a professional witness and supported Numbuh 5 by sitting behind them. 

They were only allotted an hour to finish this case because short attention spans crippled KND bureaucracy on a daily basis. Numbuh 5 had to shut $1.50 down from a lengthy opening statement about how Fanny was a teen rocket ready to explode just so she could add hers in.

“Numbuh 5 gonna make this easy for the jury-”

Before Abby could take another breath, Fanny stood up, her cheek indented from the table. “Jus’ decommission me, fer Zero’s sakes!”  

Chad sat back, his expression just as pinched and confused as Maurice, as the sound of the monitor erupted in excitement within the courtroom. “What the hell is she doing?”

“I don’t know,” Maurice said. He leaned and squinted at his own screen as if it would yield more explanation if he did so. “Maybe the trial made her sugar crash.” 

“That’s no sugar crash,” Chad replied gruffly. “That’s defeat.”

They watched as Abby stomped over to the defendant’s table and shook Fanny by the shoulders. “Snap outta it, Numbuh 86! What’s wrong with you, girl?!”

“I sAId I wAnt thE deCoMmIssIoNin’!” Fanny snarled as her head bobbed up and down. 

Numbuh $1.50 brushed off his expensive sleeves with aplomb. “The prosecution rests, your honor!”

Judge 2D squeaked her gavel harder, making her powdered wig skew. “Order in the court! Very funny Numbuh $1.50. Now get your butt moving with those character witnesses!”

The first ten minutes was a massacre.

The prosecutor brought in character witnesses by the droves and all of them itched to give Numbuh 86 a piece of their mind about her behavior. Numbuh 5 could only sit in the defendant’s seat and pinch her nose. 

Chad and Maurice fared no better back in TND headquarters. Maurice’s eyes glazed over the screen, his chin on his palm, while Chad thumped his head on the table. They might as well have looked like they had just experienced an entire period reading Shakespeare instead of a nail-biting trial. 

“I had no idea how unpopular Numbuh 86 was,” Maurice mused, his words half-muffled by his palm. “Did she really try to kiss half the boys on Moonbase?”

“What did Numbuh 362 see in her?” Chad mumbled instead, his eyes distant for a different reason. “She made her _Global Tactical Officer_.”

Maurice snickered. “Why don’t you ask her?”

“Very funny.” As if it would give him the answers, Chad slid Numbuh 86’s permanent record over and flipped through it. Funny enough, Abby was doing the same through the tiny monitor. “If you shelve the behavioral problems, Numbuh 86-”

“-has a 98% capture rate while she was Head of Decommissioning!” Abby pointed out as she stood for rebuttal. “Okay sure, maybe Numbuh 86 isn’t exactly someone you want to share a juice box with, but you can’t deny that she’s dedicated to the KND!”

Numbuh $1.50 rubbed his chin, then raised his finger into the air. “Rebuttal, your honor! Is Numbuh 86 dedicated… or was she scheming the whole time? That 98% rate sure will come in handy the day she’s headin’ for the chair… but if we decommission her now, her plans unravel!”

“Object, Numbuh 5!” Chad snarled at the screen. “That’s speculation!”

Maurice drummed his jaw irritably. “She can’t hear you, Numbuh 274.” 

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.” Chad thumped his head on the table until he was called forth to testify. As Supreme Leader, it was Abby who had the advantage to question him first. 

“Before we get started,” Judge 2D announced loudly. “Given the sensitive nature of this witness’ deep undercover status, let the court put on record that this operative is to be excused from revealing his or her identity.”

“Objection!” $1.50 complained. “How does the court know for sure that this is a credible witness if we don’t have any idea who they are?”

Abby stood up and pointed sharply at him. “Because I say so, ya nickel-sniffin’ piranha!” 

The crowd mumbled in either agreement or because they liked the insult. Either way, the judge thumped her gavel again and demanded silence. “I’m allowing this testimony so sit yer butt down until it’s your turn, $1.50!”

Maurice thumped Chad on the back as his monitor came down into the courtroom, but no one could get a complete visual of him. It was just a snowy screen to them and, when he introduced himself, his voice was too distorted to be recognizable. 

“Operative,” Abby began, “Were you there the day of the incident?”

“Yes.” 

“Your testimony please.” 

Chad waited for Maurice to give him the cue and nod. “Supreme Leader Numbuh 5 and Global Tactical Officer Numbuh 86 visited the Forever 21 store at the Mall of America. They then got into a fight with high-risk traitor Cree Lincoln and her cohorts inside the store.”

Abby nodded. “Very good. Now, given your deep undercover status, can you explain to the jury how Cree Lincoln engages the Kids Next Door?”

“Psychological warfare,” he said, then added as a few of the kids shared confused looks. “She uses the sticks and stones method. If she can’t physically hit you, she’ll bully you with words.” 

“Is that what happened in the store?”

He fell silent. The question was a problem to answer. He could potentially give himself away if he admitted that he was within earshot of the attack. On the one hand, this could definitely help Fanny’s case. But at the end of the day, he wasn’t Supreme Leader anymore. He was just an undercover operative. His stomach dipped when Maurice gravely shook his head.

Chad leaned further into the mic. “I can’t testify whether I was in the store or not.” 

Abby’s jaw tightened at that. Fanny didn’t seem very responsive to anything that was going on, let alone the testimony. She kept her silence while the audience stirred again with murmurs. 

“Operative,” Abby continued. “How effective is Cree’s psychological warfare with the Kids Next Door?”

“Cree Lincoln is a former KND operative that has escaped decomissioning,” Chad said neutrally. “Because of this, she knows how to enrage or incapacitate other operatives with a measure of success. This makes her very credible to the likes of Father, who has made her an unofficial right hand of the Teen Ninjas.”

She nodded. “So you can say that this is her primary strategy in battle whether or not you were in the store?”

“Cree likes the sound of her own voice,” Chad couldn’t help but snark. “So yeah, I’d say so.” 

When Abby returned to her seat, $1.50 eagerly walked over to Chad’s monitor and leaned on it with cool confidence. “So we can place you in the mall for sure then, witness?”

“Yes.”

“Why were you there?”

“Objection!” Abby snapped. “Irrelevant! We don’t need to know why they were there!”

“Any questions that could jeopardize the operative’s deep cover status aren’t allowed,” Judge 2D reminded him severely. “Objection sustained. I suggest you stay on topic, Numbuh $1.50.” 

$1.50 graciously bowed to her. “Apologies, your honor.” He turned back to the monitor. “So you were in the mall when this incident happened. Were you there before or after Numbuh 86 attacked Cree first?”

“Before.” 

“Did you know that Numbuh 86 has a history of unnecessary violence?”

He couldn’t help but snarl. “According to what?”

“This.” $1.50 pulled out a folder. “I would like to enter Numbuh 86’s super private permanent record.”

Abby frowned. “How’d you- Numbuh 5 don’t even have clearance for the private record!”

“The defense clearly doesn’t share candy with the right people,” $1.50 simpered, unfolding the document. “According to her tactical record, Numbuh 86 has attacked more of our own operatives than actual villains. Most if not all of them ended up in a fistfight. Clearly she has a history of instability, making her a liability - and that means a _nuisance_ in fancy law talkin’- to the image the KND stands for. Given her record, would you agree that Numbuh 86 has a reckless streak?”

Chad stalled a bit, unsure, but Maurice was too busy frowning at his own screen to be of any help. When he was Supreme Leader, Numbuh 86 was still rising up the ranks of the Decommissioning Squad, so he didn’t entirely knew how she conducted herself on the field. “She was emotional, not reckless. There were words exchanged before the attack. That means Cree-”

“So you _were_ within earshot then?” $1.50 asked excitedly.

This time it was Chad who ignored Maurice’s stare. “Their lips were moving. Numbuh 5 was there when it happened.”

“Our Supreme Leader can’t testify squat thanks to her immunity,” he pointed out smugly, then made a show pacing the floor and stopped in front of the jury. “But that’s fine. Let’s say Cree did talk smack to Numbuh 86. None of that matters. The only thing that matters is who threw the first punch. Your honor, I would like to also enter into evidence the _Kid-Teen Treaty_ , which was ratified and put into effect two years prior under former Supreme Leader Numbuh 362.”

Maurice sighed. “I knew this was going somewhere.”   

“Now, I’ll not bore the lot of you the 20+ page detail over the do’s and don’t’s of the treaty. Just the one that matters. And that’s regarding sanctuary areas within every rural and/or urban sprawl where teens and kids can co-exist peacefully.” Numbuh $1.50 smacked the thick binder in his hand. “Numbuh 362, Zero may she rest in peace, strongly pushed for anti-bullying in playgrounds, schools, and _malls_. Especially physical attacks.” He glanced over at 86. “How disappointing would she be that her own XO violated the rules that she so tirelessly worked towards.”

For the first time in the trial, Fanny reacted. Her eyes widened and her jaw turned tight in pure shame. The pencil that had been loose in her fist snapped clean in two.  

He continued. “Operative, did Numbuh 86 throw the first punch in a sanctuary area and in turn, violated the terms of the _Don’t Mess with Us - Don’t Mess with You - Kid/Teen Treaty_?” 

The court was silent, waiting for the answer. Numbuh 2 started to bite at his nails as the anticipation grew. Chad was resoundly silent, lost in thought.

He should’ve made time to sit down and read the entire damn treaty. The Kid/Teen treaty had been a trick by the teens to catch the KND off-guard, but Numbuh 362 actually went with it even long after the jig was up. And she hashed out twenty pages to make sure no one could cheat it. 

Not even to protect Numbuh 86.

“The witness must answer the question,” Judge 2D warned. 

Maurice nudged Chad to respond, but he was lost in his own head and angry. Angry at this sham trial and angry at himself. He should’ve prepared - why didn’t he prepare? 

His phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Whether it was Roxy or Infinity, none of them were of any help to him now. Working his jaw, Chad leaned forward into the mic. “Yes.”

Abby thunked her head in her arms as the jury exclaimed and chattered among one another. 2D banged her gavel again, but the crowd continue to chitter with excitement.

 _“Put her in the chair!”_ One of the kids jeered.

Judge 2D banged the gavel so loudly the Rainbow Monkey head shot clean off. “This trial is officially on a ten minute recess! I suggest both councils compose themselves for sentencing! Go! Shoo, shoo!” 

“That does it.” Chad pulled away and made for the door. “I’m cracking skulls.”

Maurice sighed and followed after him. “Chad, wait!”

While Chad tried to book the first emergency flight to Moonbase, Hoagie quickly followed after Abby as the Decommissioning Squad took Fanny into a containment room. “Now what, chief?”

“Numbuh 5 would rather do her algebra homework than this,” she replied sourly. “The one time Numbuh 5 needs Numbuh 86 fired up and she’s as interactive as a wet fire pit!” And as $1.50 cooled himself down with the permanent record, she snatched it out of his hands. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Robbie! Draggin’ Numbuh 86’s reputation through the mud like that just to win a case!”

“That’s my job!” he whined. “And she did that herself!”

“You could’ve been nicer,” Hoagie said angrily. “We all know she’s a pain in the butt, but she could be dishonorably discharged! She doesn’t deserve that!”

Robbie scoffed and stretched out the lapels of his suit jacket. “Niceties don’t belong in a courtroom, sirs. Only the truth shall set Fulbright free.” 

“And a really good character witness,” Hoagie grumbled.

“It’s not over yet, Numbuh 2,” Abby said, flipping through the record. “Numbuh 5 is just warming up!”

* * *

 

Instead of finding Harvey, family psychiatrist Dr. Grey stood on their porch, his shoulders damp from the rain outside. He looked like an old fashioned doctor that took house calls back in the day, with his bland colored suit and medical bag. But he was a striking man, mid-30’s, a full head of auburn hair tinged with just the right amount of grey, and a handsome face that just wouldn't quit. The moms of suburbia liked to call him Dr. McDreamy. They weren’t wrong. 

Dr. Grey took off his hat and greeted her with a calm, friendly smile that made her blush and look away.

“Oh.” Rachel looked around for a second, hoping she still could catch a glimpse of Harvey, to no avail. “Hello, Dr. Grey. Are you looking for my parents?”

He put his hat back on. “Judging from the empty driveway they already left for the PTA meeting.” He opened up his bag and handed her another bottle of pills. “Your mother said you were getting low on Harvey’s medication. How’s the little squirt doing?”

“You just missed him,” she said, then almost hesitantly. “He’s calmer thanks to the meds - but I don’t know. Something’s off about him.”

“Oh?” He leaned forward and squinted. “You look a bit pale, kiddo. Is it that bad?”

Rachel quickly shook her head. “No. I had a… weird dizzy spell a second ago.”

“Hm. Describe it.” His tone was soft, disarming and it got her to slowly open up and tell him about the voices that came with it. He clicked his tongue and hummed as he tilted her chin to look directly into her eyes. It made her blush again until he flashed a pen light at her pupils, making her squint. “I’d say you just haven’t eaten much, but the voices, well…”

Her nose wrinkled. “Don’t tell me I’ve gone schitzo.”

“If you are, I’m pleased to tell you that all of your personalities are exceptionally well-mannered,” he teased, then rubbed his chin. “Have you been experiencing disorientation? Maybe a higher occurrence of deja vu?”

Remembering how Chad reacted to the jeans back at the Gap, she slowly nodded. Satisfied, he straightened up and pocketed his light. “Well, I don’t want to diagnose at a glance, but you seem to be having the same symptoms a lot of my teenage patients have.”

“And what’s that?”

“Memory repression. Most can’t even remember their childhood. It’s the oddest thing.” 

Repressed memories? As her brow furrowed and she looked hesitant, he patted her on the head. “If you want, we can schedule an appointment. See what’s bouncing around in that pretty head of yours.”

She almost agreed to anything the way he smiled so fondly. Curses to all her hormones and then some. “Ah… okay?”

“I’ll talk to your parents, hm?” He checked his watch then pointed at the pills in her hand. “Maybe tonight even. If I don’t book it, I’ll be late. Give that to his nanny, okay?”

She watched him hurry into his car and drive for the large hill overlooking the Wigglestein manor, then finally closed the door. Tossing the bottle up and down in her hand, she retreated to the kitchen and opened the medicine cabinet with her key. From vitamins to painkillers for dad’s back pain, it was pretty much a self-sustainable pharmacy. Far too used to the sight to be alarmed by it, Rachel almost set the bottle down on the shelf meant for Harvey’s medication and paused. 

If these pills have changed Harvey’s personality up on its head, surely stopping it would put him back to normal? Rachel was torn. She didn’t want to damage him further by ruining his medication. Maybe he actually did need them.

“ _Mockery_ ,” she muttered to herself. The Harvey she knew didn’t know how to _spell_ the word, let alone use it in a sentence. 

* * *

 

Treaty tight in her hands, Abby waved down the guards in front of the containment cell and entered. Fanny sat quietly on the lone chair, staring at nothing, and pretty much checked out. 

Abby sighed and picked up the other chair. “You really givin’ up, aren’t ya?” 

Fanny shrugged. “Does it really matter? What a waste of time.”

“It’s not a waste of time!” Abby snapped. “Numbuh 5 won’t let Cree win this one! Not today!”

“Will ye shut up abou’ Cree?!” Her voice bounced along the walls, stunning Abby into silence. There was a flair of that fire left in Fanny, but as the moment passed, the fire dimmed to nothing once more. “Ah’ve known Cree fer years. I should’ve expected that. Now ah’m payin’ fer it.”

Abby straightened her shoulders. “Fine, you can pay for it. But we’re not fighting just to save you from decommissioning, Fanny. It’s your legacy that’s in danger. They could strike your number for this-”

“What does tha’ matter to me?” Fanny countered. “I won’t remember any of it anyways.”

“It’s not for you, Numbuh 86! It’s for the next 86 afterwards.” Abby leaned forward. “And for every 86 before you! We can’t stop ourselves from growing up. Numbuh 5 knows this very well. But our numbers never age. We carry the legacy of the kids before us so we can leave it for the kids after.”

To her surprise, Fanny started to chuckle. “Hah. Ye sound like her. Like Numbuh 362.” Her smile was sad. “I lost my head seein’ ‘er again.”

“Numbuh 86…”

“Who’s the oldest in Secta V?” Fanny wondered aloud. “Numbuh 3, I think. Ye won’t know what it’s like until she goes first. Ter be left behind, I mean. She goes on, makes new friends, makes a new identity. Ye’ll be lucky if she’s even the same person out of it.” Abby said nothing, her expression pinched and closed off. Fanny continued. “Do ye hate yer sister, Abby?”

Abby looked up in surprise. “I don’t…” Her shoulders then slumped and she pulled the brim of her hat over her eyes. “It’s complicated.” After a pause, she added, “I don’t hate her. I hate what she’s become.” 

“Ye hate that she chose to keep her memories?”

“I hate that she’s known for being a villain more than a Kids Next Door operative!” Abby admitted angrily. “She was a great operative - one of the best! She was kind and helpful and always shared her candy! And she loved the KND with all her heart!” She smacked the armrest of her chair. “But the people who knew her that way are gone and now _no one_ remembers it! That’s what you want, Fanny? To be dishonored without a fight?”

“I will accept whatever judgment the Kids Next Door has decided,” Fanny said calmly. “That is what I promised to Numbuh 362. I will not run an’ I will not go kickin’ and screamin’ fer the chambers. I’ll go wit’ dignity.”

“Then why did you ask if I hated my sister?”

One of the guards knocked before entering. “Bathrooms are clear. We’ll be escorting Numbuh 86 now.” Abby made a sound of protest when the guard none too gently pulled Fanny to her feet by the arm and shoved her for the door. She tripped from the sudden jerk and landed hard on the cement ground. 

Abby quickly got to her feet and reached for her. 

“It’s fine!” Fanny snarled from the floor. And then, after a beat, her shoulders started to shake. 

“You’re bleeding!” Abby protested, gesturing to her skinned knees. “Let Numbuh 5 call the medic-”

“Ah’m fine! Don’t worry about it! I dunna care if I have ter be dragged back ter court! No more delays!” Fanny hiccuped through her enraged howl and tears started to fall down her cheeks. “Doesn’t matter! None of it does! Ah’m a high-risk no matter what! Decommission me today or months from now - it won’t stop me dad from takin’ advantage.” She squeezed her fists hard against the cement. “Ah’m the eldest. Ah’m the one who inherits me family’s lineage - a lineage of adulthood an’ evil an’ hatred fer the Kids Next Door! An’ me brothers… my brothers…”

Abigail's heart swooped straight down into her gut. Now she knew why Fanny asked about Cree. She reached out to try and comfort Fanny, but the words just wouldn’t come out. Like hardened caramel, it seized her and wouldn’t let her go. 

She had been so sure of Fanny’s future, but loyalty to the KND wasn’t guaranteed if you don’t remember any of it. High-risk operatives made sense on paper, but she knew Fanny, and to see her on the floor - so sure that she was going to be a junior villain by the end of the year whether she wanted to or not - hit her hard. 

Cree still had her memories, but she still chose to be evil. Fanny doesn’t even have a choice in the matter. 

“Supreme Leader.”

Abby watched as Fanny angrily waved the guards off of her and got on her own two feet. Her knees were scraped and her cheek was smudged from the dirt and tears. She wiped her face with her sleeve and looked at her with a resolve that reminded her so keenly of Numbuh 362. “Numbuh 86?”

“Ah’m still owed a final request,” Fanny said proudly. “As Global Tactical Officer I ask that after ah’m decommissioned, ye arrest me and lock me in Arctic Prison.”


End file.
